The Tie That Binds
by Wishes2Dreams
Summary: It's been ten years since Beetlejuice was a part of Lydia's afterlife. Now that he's back, she finds herself feeling more confused than ever. His return, along with a completely new set of circumstances, begs the question: can Lydia trust him, or was she screwed from the get go? (Sequel to Mad Love)
1. Welcome Back

**Hello All!** _Here's my sequel to my first Beetlejuice fic titled Mad Love. I just couldn't resist furthering the plot of BJ and Lydia, and this is the result. As always, thanks to all who read this. **Warning:** It is lewd and has a lot of vulgarity, but hey, that's our ghost with the most! It's all in good fun. I hope you enjoy, and if not, thanks for trying it out anyway! :) _

* * *

Chapter 1: Welcome Back

Lydia sat across from him at the kitchen table, biting her lip nervously and wondering just what the hell he was plotting on doing. Today was technically their ten year anniversary. It was also technically his first day out of Neitherworld prison. And she also _technically_ forgot to come pick him up, and to tell her family that she was _technically_ married to a guy that they completely and utterly despised. _Technically,_ that is.

It wasn't until she was about three hours too late upon his release, that Lydia had realized her mistake. And it wasn't until he'd poofed into existence right in the middle of a nice, wholesome breakfast, that her whole family had been given the proverbial middle finger of fate. It was then, that she'd promptly scarfed down the food as quickly as possible and decided to fly out of Winter Rivers like a bat out of hell, with him right on her tail. Needless to say, it was not an ideal situation.

She sat awkwardly, watching him clack his dirty nails on the table, shooting her the most _fuck you_ look imaginable. Unsettling was an understatement. Lydia sat wondering if she should actually open her mouth and say something or simply vanish into thin air and hope for the best.

Lydia glanced up at him, as he sat seething, sucking on his grungy teeth. Apparently, he wasn't budging. Thus, the tension grew so thick she couldn't stand it. She could feel it, that awful electric feeling hanging heavy in the air. Okay, she had to say something. "Uh..."

"Yes? Somethin' ya wanna say?" he remarked, now crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

"Look, it was an acciden-"

"Ah, ah, ah, Mrs. Juice! Cut the bullshit!" he snapped, the electricity around her causing the tiny hairs on her arms to stand on end.

"It was, BJ! I really thought you were getting out tomorrow!" she remarked defensively.

"Maybe, but that ain't what I'm talkin' about! How the fuck did you accidentally forget to tell ole' Chuckie an' what's her face that we were hitched?!" he threw his hands up. "Look, I could give a shit if ya didn't tell Babs and that pussy-whipped husband of hers. Hell, I love pissin' in their cheerios! But yer mom and pops? Ya had like ten years to do it!"

"Step-mother." Lydia clarified, indignantly, as she began to feel utterly attacked. "Well, it's not like you make it easy!"

"The fuck is that s'posed to mean?" he huffed, leaning forward and glaring.

"Well...It's just..." she began, hesitantly, not quite sure of how he'd react.

"Well, what?! Spit it out!" he demanded, as Lydia felt his anger run like electric up through her own body. She still didn't understand why that was happening.

"They...kinda hate your guts." she admitted, her face scrunched up in worry. Then she began to wonder why it was so hard to admit. Was that really a secret, after all the crazy shit he'd pulled to try and marry her? Either way, hopefully he'd be nice and not try to reek havoc on them all.

She watched as he grew quiet for a moment. That strange, hot electricity began to dissipate into a low hum in an instant. "Really? That's it?" he asked, somehow looking baffled by her obvious statement.

"Pretty much. I thought you knew that." she replied, equally confused. "You did try to force me into marriage, and you dropped my dad off of a balcony. He probably hasn't forgotten that."

Beetlejuice sniggered, "Yeah, that was pretty fuckin' hilarious..."

"No it wasn't! You could have killed him!" Lydia shot back, feeling her temper rise. Just why did she feel sorry for this douchebag again? Oh yeah, she was insane, that was why. It was the same reason she was now married to the jerk. Pure, unadulterated insanity.

"Okay, okay! Damn, don't get yer panties in a wad! I'm droppin' it!" he relented, somehow losing all of his formerly angry demeanor. "Let's uh...move on from this, eh Babe? Besides, we got other things tah' do, like catchin' up...Gettin' to know one another again, ya get me? I mean, ten long years has been hell, ya know? A fuckin' pain in my sack! Stayin' in solitary confinement, and whatnot. And besides, we got to get to consummatin' this here union soon!" he grinned darkly, waggling his brow.

"Dear god..." Lydia sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's not THAT kind of marriage!"

"Oh, it's not, eh?" Beetle smirked, a sly tone now in his voice."Then pray tell, what kind is it?"

A different kind of static began to fill the air, as Lydia could somehow sense his amusement. What was with all the frantic mood changes? It was then that she promplty reminded herself that Beetlejuice was always erratic, it was simply his absence that had made it all seem new and foreign again.

"We're friends!" she demanded. "Remember? Compadres, right? We shook on it!" she exclaimed, exasperated with his insinuations.

"Ya sure about that? That little ring on your finger states otherwise, _wifey_..." he grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Lydia stated, right before standing up and walking out of his presence in sheer frustration. He'd literally only been back in her life for half a day, and already he'd turned her ten year streak of peace and calm into a manic nightmare. And something was telling her that he was just enjoying getting her riled up at this point. So, she did what she considered a wise thing to do, and simply redirected the situation. "Besides..." she began, poking her head back in as he raised a brow. "You still have your freedom. You can still do what you want. You don't have to worry about keeping a real wife happy!" she quipped, hoping to shut him up, or at least direct his mind to the nearest strip club, or whatever.

"Uh-huh..." he grunted, now grabbing a materializing bottle of liquor from thin air. "So yer sayin' ya don't give a shit, eh?"

"Look..." Lydia sighed, wondering why he came back with such a need to mess with her head. "I just mean that you can live your life. I know you wanted out, and now, thanks to me, you can't get out. The least I can do is not get in your way..." she admitted. Truthfully, ten years was a long time to dwell on her decisions. And be it insanity, some twisted form of fondness for her maniacal companion, or both, she felt a bit responsible for messing up his chance to leave. Sure, he could've had a possible thousand year sentence for what he'd attempted, but that would only happen if he was found out. Perhaps if Lydia hadn't have slowed him down, he would've been free by now. Either way, she felt partly to blame for his misfortune.

"Yer really serious about that shit, ain't you?" Beetle asked, with something in his voice sounding a bit _off_.

Lydia couldn't quite name the feelings emoting from him, but they were strange. Almost disappointed, even. But why? She realized that he'd felt some sort of way about her before, but that never stopped him from his shenanigans. He was Beetlejuice, after all. And he was her friend. It just made things more simple in her mind. Why complicate things? Besides, there was another reason she couldn't allow herself to get seriously involved in all of this, and it was one she had little time to give any thought to until the deed was done and he was thrown in the tank. It made her uneasy just thinking about it, so she did what any level-headed, undead woman would do. She suppressed that shit.

"Look, Bj, why don't we forget about all this while I let you get settled in. Besides, I need to drop by Gerald's place and return a book. Maybe when I get back we can go somewhere. Maybe do something to celebrate your arrival." she shrugged, hoping he'd shut up about their state of matrimony.

"Go see _Gerald_? You mean Jerry, the fat dweeb?! The hell you doin' hangin' out with him?" Beetle sneered.

"I can have friends, you doofus! What did you expect me to do for ten years? Sit inside and cry myself to sleep every night until your great return?" Lydia asked, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"Well, _yeah.._." Beetle remarked. "What, didn't yer ass miss me? Even a little?" he asked, sounding really insecure and needy all of a sudden.

Lydia rolled her eyes, wiping a hand across her forehead. "I never said I didn't miss you, jackass! I said I have a life of my own too! Look, I'll be back in a flash. Just do something to entertain yourself until I get back."

"Fine!" he muttered, taking a drink and appearing dejected.

Lydia looked at him, completely puzzled. That feeling wasn't new, however. Beetlejuice had more times than not left her at a loss for words. Of course, she couldn't help but to have the unsettling feeling that this was only the beginning of it.


	2. That Nagging Voice

Chapter 2: That Nagging Voice

Lydia materialized inside of Gerald's apartment, her eyes grazing over the neatly-lined bookshelves that painted the walls of his small study. She glanced down at the old, leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice in her hand, smiling warmly to herself in remembrance of one of her all time favorite classic works of literature. It was her third time reading it, and it never seemed to get old. Just like listening to a favorite tune on a summer day in Winter Rivers, it just seemed to linger in the back of her mind, dancing about and making her feel nostalgic and warm.

Gerald sat over his desk, looking through a magnifying glass at what seemed to be an old map of some sort. He seemed to be too deeply interested in what he was looking at to realize she was there.

"Hi, Gerald." Lydia smirked, amused with his never-ending sense of fascination with learning about new things.

The portly man startled, whipping about and adjusting his glasses. "Oh, Lydia! I do apologize! I didn't hear you come in. How long have you been standing there?" he asked, wiping at the small beads of sweat that began to trickle from his brow.

"Oh, I just got here. I wanted to bring this back to you." she said, handing the beloved book over to her friend.

"Ah, yes! The timeless work of Jane Austin. Very broad appeal, that one." he noted, standing and carefully sliding the antique book into its own designated spot.

Lydia smiled, taking in just how meaningful his quaint surroundings were to him, especially since the old apartment complex had been condemned a few years back. Gerald had told her that it was a rather old structure in the first place, hence why the rent had been so cheap when he was alive. And since nobody had set foot in his old apartment after Beetlejuice had scared every living human away from it, he'd been able to stay in peace. After the place had finally closed down, he would never have to worry about his time spent there. The rest of his sentence could be spent in peace until he crossed over. In the meantime, Lydia and Gerald had become quite good friends, especially with Beetlejuice missing in action.

She visited very often, and he let her borrow many of his old books, which she greatly appreciated. Since he couldn't travel between worlds as she seemed to, she'd hunted down a library in the afterlife, where she'd bring him books at his request. It wasn't an exciting friendship, but it was a nice, safe, stable one. It was nice not to feel so alone when Beetlejuice was away. Honestly, she could only stand her visits to Winter Rivers so long. There was only so much she could hear from Delia before excusing herself back to the Neitherworld.

"Yes, I love it. It's one of my favorites." she beamed. "So, whatcha looking at?" she stepped over, her eyes tracing the lines of an old map of the sea, complete with fantastic sea-creatures drawn about the waves.

"Just an old map. I sort of have a soft spot when it comes to the study of cartography. It just amazes me that our ancestors used such creativity to make such things. All that discovery and information, while armed with only their bravery and rudimentary tools." he gleamed.

Lydia smiled, "That's nice, Gerald. I had no idea-"

 _Hey, you done yet?_

Lydia grimaced mid-sentence, hearing that familiar, gravelly voice bounce around in her mind.

"Everything alright, Lydia?" Gerald furrowed his brow, noticing her abrupt stop.

"Um...Yeah, it's fine. Sort of." she admitted.

"Sort...of?" he inquired, now more curious than ever.

 _Hey. HEY! Don't ingnore my ass! What's takin' ya so long?_

Lydia sighed, growing irritated with Beetles telekinetic badgering.

"Gerald, do you remember when I said Beetlejuice would be out of Neitherworld solitary confinement soon?" she asked, hating to remind him due to his fear of the ghoul.

"Oh... _Oh, no._ Um, do-does that mean...?" Gerald began, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his face with it.

"Yeah." she admitted. "Im afraid so. He's calling for me, so I'd better go before he does something stupid."

"Yes, yes. Certainly." Gerald nodded rapidly, his anxiety clearly showing.

"Well, guess I'll see you around." Lydia gave him a half-hearted smile, truly realizing how crazy this was going to make things again.

"Er...uh, wait!" Gerald blurted out right before Lydia decided to leave.

"Yeah?"

"You will still come to visit, won't you?" Gerald asked pitifully.

Lydia sighed, smiling. "Of course. Believe me, I won't let him control me." she replied, sounding much more confident and sure of herself than she actually was.

"What are you going to do?" Gerald asked in earnest, having heard the whole story of she and Beetlejuice's fateful marriage and all of the events that led up to it over the years.

"I-I'm not sure..." she stammered, beginning to feel a familiar static sparking around her.

 _Go ahead, ignore me ONE MORE TIME!_

God, he was so impatient! Lydia decided she'd come back just to shut him up, and potentially keep him from further terrorizing Gerald. "I'm sorry, Gerald. I've got to go." she said, exasperated, as she vanished before her friend.


	3. New Problems

Chapter 3: New Problems

"The fuck is takin' her so long?!" Beetle huffed, throwing his empty booze bottle against the wall and watching it shatter. "Yeah, that's better..." he grinned maliciously. That was one way to assert his male dominance. Make the place look a little more manly, and not so damned full of estrogen!

He took a drag off his cigarette, walking from room to room in disgust. Just what the hell had she done to his once glorious, manly shithole? It was bad enough that she came in years ago and demanded that his house be clean, of all things. But to put vases of flowers and doilies and shit everywhere? Now that was too far! Beetle was pretty sure his testicles had retracted in about two inches just looking at the place.

He walked down the hallway that led to his bedroom, eyeing a particularly abominable creation that had that fucking step mom of Lydia's name written all over it. Who the hell thought a square and three fucking triangles belonged on any form of painting this side of hell? Apparently Delia fucking did. He'd have to have a talk with the little lady about that subject, which would hopefully end with a bonfire in their backyard, and Delia's shitty stuff blazing in it.

"Ack!" he gasped, seeing his bed tainted with clean, flowery blankets. "Fuck..." he sighed, plopping himself of the edge of it and rubbing his moldy head in his hands. What the fuck was going on? Hell, he knew things would change, but not _that_ much!

Regardless of how stupid all her girly shit looked, Beetle knew that wasn't really what was irking him so damned much. Of course, he delighted in misdirected anger like a kid on Christmas, so he got up and knocked a few more ugly pictures off the wall just for fun, before deciding to sulk and ruminate on the real matter at hand while his wife was off playing Dead Poets Society with that fat nerd.

The real matter was that he'd been crazy over her all those years. Years spent scratching little marks on walls in solitary confinement, waiting to see her again. Her little night of drunken roleplay had already cost him his eternity, so he'd decided he would make the most of it. Try to do the right thing and all that sappy shit. And why? Because she was technically the best thing he could be attatched to in the afterlife, if he had to stay. So why not stay with her? In short, he'd gotten his hopes up.

But was he gonna tell her all that romantic shit? Fuck no! Not _now_! Apparently, her drunken lust for the ole B-man may have been enough to make her snake that ring on her finger, but that was about it. Hell, she'd been too busy playing house with those fucking Maitlands, of all people, to remember to even greet his ass after ten years. The nerve. She didn't even tell them she was hitched!

And now she was all into this weird ass friend-zoning shit. What the hell was her problem? It wasn't like she didn't know how he felt already. And, yeah, they shook on it. They were compadres, but was that all she really took things as? He didn't believe that shit for one minute. He could feel it in the air the second he realized she was wearing his ring. That day in his holding cell, he could practically hear her undead heartbeat in his ears. What happened to that? Why was she being all icy and shit?

It was almost as if she was purposely trying to push him away, but what the fuck for? Beetle scratched his head trying to make sense of this newly developed clusterfuck. "Women..." he muttered to himself, putting his cigarette out on the blanket just to leave a nice little _fuck you_ to his wife.

It was precisely during his cute little act of defiance that Lydia came stomping into the room, waves of purple haze behind her. "Fine! I'm here! What is it?" she spat impatiently, as her big brown eyes grew wide, staring at his hand, which was still holding the evidence. "What the hell are you doing?"


	4. Surprises

Chapter 4: Surprises

"Nuthin'..." Beetlejuice replied dumbly, suddenly feeling like a scolded puppy. He stared at her, expressionless, his crushed smoke between his thumb and forefinger.

"Why are you doing that?" Lydia huffed, her gaze now drifting to the various messes he'd purposely made in the once tidy roadhouse.

"Uh...doin' wut?" he continued, still feeling reprimanded. He didn't like that feeling. As a matter of fact, it fucking sucked. It was time for him to do a little laying down of the law for himself. "Wait, I could ask ya the same damned thing! The fuck was takin' ya so long? And why the hell does my roadhouse look like Cinderella threw up all over it? All those flowers and plush carpets and shit...And don't even get me started on that hag monster-in-law and those polished turds she calls art!" he raged, stomping through the house, pointing out each of those offences to Lydia.

"What's wrong with it? I'm sorry if this place looked like a clean house instead of a landfill, BJ! Not everyone wants to live in a trash dumpster that smells like hot garbage and balls! And why are we even arguing over this? It's stupid! If you don't like the interior, we can compromise...Geez..." Lydia huffed, rubbing her forehead irritably.

Damn. There she went with that diplomatic "compromise" shit again. There was no way to get an upper hand with her when she pulled that shit. She was right. It was stupid as hell, but he was feeling all dejected and irritable, and he needed to be pissy. So what?

"So are we ready to go somewhere and celebrate your glorious arrival or not?" Lydia huffed, hand on her hip while shooting him a sharp glare.

"Oh. Uh, yeah." Beetle answered, scratching the back of his head, forgetting why he'd hurried his dearly beloved up in the first place. Beetle smirked deviously, as an evil little thought entered his mind. So, she said for him to live his life, eh? Not to worry about her _feelings,_ eh? Well, then since she didn't give a supposed fuck about their marriage, then he wouldn't either. "So, does the B-man get to pick, since he was locked away and suffering for a decade?"

Lydia sighed. "Yes. Where are we going?"

"So _anywhere,_ right Babe?" he asked, just to make sure he had her word. Oh, she was gonna love this!

"Yes, anywhere..."she replied, a wary expression growing on her face. "Why?"

"Cause. Now let's go, Love Muffin!" he quickly answered, grabbing her tightly by the arm and vanishing them both in a cloud of thick, green fog.

* * *

Lydia emerged in an unfamiliar location, the fog and smoke so thick inside of the building that Beetle had landed them in, that she had to flail her arms frantically just to see. Coughing from the fumes, she could finally make out BJ, standing next to her. Suggestive music blared wildly from around them, the room full of rowdy patrons crowded around tables, beers firmly in their undead grips.

"What the? What is this place, BJ?" Lydia asked, trying to actually be audible over the loud music.

Beetle smiled, his expression dark and completely up to no good. He motioned her to turn around, seeing as though she was currently facing the exit. When she actually did turn around, however, her eyes grew wide from pure embarrassment.

"You took me to a strip club?!" Lydia screeched, eyeing the half-naked, undead women dancing about the many stripper poles, all in various states of undress. She winced, feeling completely out of place and rather pissed, if she was being honest with herself. Couldn't he have done that on his own free time? Why did he have to drag her along?

Beetle took her by the forearm, as she could only glare at him, imagining bursting him into flames for being such a jackass.

"C'mon, Babe. Let's have some fun, shall we?" he leered, sitting at a lounge table and pulling Lydia right in it with him, planting her down right in front of a gyrating crotch. "First row seats, baby!" he howled, nudging Lydia with his elbow slyly.

Fuming, Lydia leaned over and hissed in his ear. "What the hell made you think I'd like this?"

He narrowed his eyes, giving a half-grin. "Hey, you let me pick, Babe."

Lydia sighed, folding her arms across her chest uncomfortably, as a ghoulish topless waitress with stitches across her stomach came very close to her face, causing her to lean back in order to not be prodded by... _things._ Unfortunately, in order to do that, she had to lean back into Beetlejuice, who she was not particularly happy with in that moment. She couldn've sworn she'd heard him snort in amusement as she did so.

"Alright, anything I can get you two tonight?" she asked, smacking on a piece of gum.

"Yeah, Sugar. Two of the stiffest drinks ya got." BJ answered, giving a big, dopey grin to the woman.

"Sure thing, Mr.B." she winked, before strutting away and causing Lydia to nearly vomit. Good god, he was a regular here.

"Oh, god..." Lydia moaned, rubbing her head. "Why did I let you pick?"

"What's wrong, Babe? Jealous?" Beetle remarked, causing Lydia's face to twist in confusion. Jealous? Really? She did note that he had a peculiar look on his face, and that strange static that seemed to hum between them just tripled. Then again, it could've been her imagination. He was probably just horny or something.

"No, BJ. They're paid to do this. So no. I'm not jealous." she stated, feeling really weird about his whole demeanor. Something just seemed off about him since he'd come back, and that something just seemed more off by the minute. "And besides, it's not like we're really together. You can do what you want." she continued, trying to avoid all the writhing body parts flopping at her from the stage.

Suddenly, the static in the air seemed to overpower her. It almost felt like thick, white, hot anger. What the hell was going on with him? She looked to see him glaring ahead, watching the ladies dance and looking somehow really pissed off about it. It was bizarre, really.

"Okay, here ya go Mr.B," the topless gal came back placing a glowing green drink in front of him. "And here ya go, beautiful." she sat a matching drink down in front of Lydia, giving her a wink and causing her to feel even more embarrassed.

"Put it on mah tab..." Beetle said dryly, slamming back his alcohol.

Okay, this was too weird. Lydia had to say something. "So...What's the name of this place?" she asked, trying to start a conversation and distract herself from the copious amounts of nudity being quite literally thrust in her face.

"Fire Down Below. Been goin' here for years. Well, until I was locked up anyway." he said, sounding kind of depressed, which was almost sad, and Lydia didn't know why the hell that was happening.

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, she started to drink. "So, this is what you do for fun? Just watch this...stuff?"

"Well, not always. Sometimes I get lapdances and shit. Well, I did, until I got sorta banned from doing that." he snorted, taking another drink.

"And just what did you do?" Lydia asked, hearing the accusing tone in her own voice.

"Uh, didn't pay." he shrugged. "Yup, no more freebies for the B-Man, I'm afraid."

"So why do they still let you in here?" she questioned.

"Let's just say I can be very _persuasive..."_ he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

"Okay, forget I asked." she remarked, rolling her eyes. God, this was terrible, not to mention pointless. And stupid.

An unnerving silence grew between them, causing her to drink faster due to her emotional discomfort.

"So, uh, why are ya hangin' around that dweeb, anyway?" Beetle broke the silence, as Lydia's insides began to tingle from the stout drink.

"Who, Gerald?" she asked, feeling irritated that he wouldn't let that subject rest. "BJ, he's a nice man. You should really quit ragging on him like you do. He's a good friend. Besides, we have a lot of things in common. Nerdy things that I'm sure you don't want to talk about. So I can talk to him about those things and not bore you to death with them. It's practically a win-win for you. I don't see why you're being such a baby over it." Lydia teased, hoping he'd finally shut his trap about her having a friend.

"Guess you have a point. That book nerd shit ain't fer me. No offence, Doll, but you have some lame-ass hobbies." Beetle scoffed, signaling for two more drinks.

Lydia snickered, now feeling a bit bubbly from intoxication. "Well, I could always start working here. Might make me a little more interesting. Haha. Lydia Deetz, exotic pole-dancer. " she giggled.

"Heheh...I dare ya, toots. Bust 'em out. I won't complain. Probably have to beat the menfolk off ya though." he remarked, before giving her a peculiar glance. "It's Juice." he then said flatly.

"What's juice?" Lydia asked, baffled, as the waitress sat two more glowing drinks on the small, red table in front of them.

"Yer last name. You said Deetz. It's not Deetz anymore, remember?" he corrected, almost awkwardly.

"I do now." she snorted, knocking her second drink back. "Sorry, _Mr. Juice_."

"Hey, hey easy there." he said, gently pulling the bottle of booze from her hand and surprising her. "Lyds, ya know I can't go to these places by myself, don't ya?"

"Er...Why?" she asked, even more baffled by the cold haze of intoxication flowing through her undead veins.

"Because our wrinkly old case worker won't have it, Babe. She knows what really happened. If word gets around that this is a fraud marriage then our asses will be locked up, because she'll throw us under the bus before she gets in trouble for coverin' our asses. Kapeesh?" he huffed, strangely acting more level-headed than she currently was, and that was freaking scary.

"I guess you're right..." she nodded, before grabbing her booze back. "So why'd you take me here?"

"I don't know." he shrugged, seeming a little defeated. "Thought it'd be funny as hell to watch you get pissed off about it, but yer too damned agreeable."

Lydia shrugged, downing the last of her drink. "Oops. Sorry." she smirked.

"Fuck, don't start that apology shit. That makes it worse." he snapped, looking genuinely irritated by it.

A mixture of intoxication and provocation caused her to giggle. "Sor-"

"Don't say it!" he glared, causing her to cover her mouth to bite back the laughter.

She was most definitely tempted to say it again just to piss him off, but thought better of it. Considering his extra erratic behavior, she decided thoroughly against poking the bear. She simply grinned, watching his expression cool down.

"Eh...I say we call it a night. How 'bout you?" he yawned, stretching his arms. Lydia nodded in agreement, secretly thankful they'd be leaving. Like, really, really thankful.


	5. The Spat

Chapter 5: The Spat

Lydia wobbled to the couch, yawning as she juiced herself into a comfortable robe, while simultaneously wondering why Beetle always felt the need to give her enough alcohol for a small army.

She rubbed at her eyes, watching two Beetle's slowly form into one, as he plopped down beside her, equally wasted. Damn, those drinks were strong.

"What did you do, tell her to put roofies in them?" Lydia drawled, feeling the need to scold him for aiding in her drunken state.

"Hey, it's not like I forced yer ass to drink it." he grumbled. "Besides, you've been here long enough to know that if ya hang with the B-Man, chances are yer gettin' trashed."

"Can't...argue...there..." Lydia trailed off, her eyes growing heavy.

"Hey, hey!" she felt Beetlejuice nudge her. "Get ta' bed. No need in sleepin' on the couch."

"Heh. That's almost sweet of you, BJ. _Almost_..." Lydia thought out loud.

"Okay, c'mon, Mrs. Juice." she heard him say, as he pulled her up, her arm holding around the back of his neck for balance.

A few stumbling steps later and she dropped unceremoniously onto the bed. "Goodnight, BJ..." she muttered, succumbing to sleep.

* * *

Lydia awoke to the sound of her own heart in her ears and the most god-awful headache imaginable. "Ugh..." she groaned, rolling over on her back and gingerly rubbing her forehead. It was a terrible experience, from the strip club, to the glowing green drinks, and most of all, the fact that her bare foot hit something really cold and hairy under the sheets. _Oh, god_.

Her eyes grew wide as she turned her head to see Beetlejuice laying under the blankets, apparently half-naked.

"Shit!" Lydia cursed under her breath, fearful of stirring him before getting the chance to scoot out of the bed. She didn't want any unsavory appendages moving over to her territory.

Unfortunately, just as she began to slide, the jackass rolled over. Lydia gasped, eyes wide, feeling a moldy, smelly arm plop across her stomach. She turned to see him face down, snoring like he was drowning in his own spit _. God, he was nasty._

"BJ, wake up!" she demanded, wincing from the fact that his naked, crusty shoulder was now crushing her boob. "BJ! HEY!" she said louder, shaking him and growing angry that the fucker wouldn't open his eyes and move. Lydia huffed. Okay, he never even warned her he was going to pull this little stunt, let alone pin her to the bed! Now she was livid. "I SAID, GET OFF, SHITHEAD!" she yelled, pushing the poltergeist so hard he rolled back over into the floor with an unceremonious _thud_.

"HOLY SHIT, SANDWORM!" Beetle jumped up, throwing the covers off himself, before realizing he was in his bedroom, and was not, in fact, about to be turned into Sandworm feces. "...What the fuck just happened?" he muttered, scratching his junk through his ratty boxers and causing Lydia to throw up a little in her mouth.

"What are you doing in here?!" Lydia jumped up, demanding answers.

"Uh...Last time I checked, this was mah bed!" he yelled back, throwing his hands up in defense.

"Yeah, but you told me I could sleep here!" Lydia fumed, trying not to look at the roach currently crawling across his beer gut.

"Yeah? So wut? It's yer bed, too. The fuck's the problem?" he spat.

"You're not supposed to come in here with all your clothes off and sleep with me!" Lydia yelled, making sure he knew good and well that she wasn't going to let that fly.

"WOAH! Okay, now first of all, I slept _beside_ ya, not with ya. If the B-Man slept with you, you'd be singin' another tune, Dollface. And second, the B-Man wasn't parkin' his ass on that stiff-as-hell couch all night. And third, seniorita, if ya didn't notice, we're fuckin' married!" he ranted, stomping up to her and pointing his grimey finger in her face.

"That doesn't COUNT! It's not the real thing! WE. ARE. FRIENDS!" she countered, making sure to bat his ridiculous green pointy-finger out of her face. "Friends don't sleep together!"

"The hell?! S'not like I did anything to ya! Damn!" he growled, the static in the air coming back and making Lydia's skin prickle.

"Fine. You want your bed, you can have it! I'll just sleep in another room. Just...don't trick me like that again..." Lydia glared, feeling really pissed with his stranger-than-normal behavior. What was with him? He just wasn't making any sense.

There was a heavy silence between them, with Beetle giving her the most _fuck you_ stare he could possibly muster.

"Damn, Lydia. When did ya turn into such a bitch?" He muttered, and something inside of her felt really odd and hurt all of a sudden. He was serious. He wasn't just trying to be a dickwad. Apparently in his mind, he was being honest.

Lydia swallowed a strange lump in her throat. It was all starting to make a little sense now, and she didn't know if she wanted to vomit, cry, run screaming, or all three. "I...I turned into a bitch when you changed." she glared daggers at him, before storming off.


	6. Word Vomit

Chapter 6: Word Vomit

Lydia stood across from her old home away from home. "The Red Rum" looked just as it had ten years ago, albeit a bit worse for wear, as more of the lights had burned out, never to be replaced. She'd only stayed there at night when she had no place to go, and once she'd moved in with Beetlejuice, that ended that.

She'd been walking the streets all day, traveling far enough away to put some distance between the poltergeist and herself, and found herself quite relieved that he hadn't followed her. She hated to be cliche, but she needed to get some fresh air so she could clear the noise in her head. And she had gotten fresh air, literally all day, just to stay away from Beetlejuice.

It was now dusk, and the old, twisted streetlights had dimly flickered on, one by one, alerting her that it was time to go inside and possibly drink away that terrible hangover she'd carried all day. _He really was a terrible influence_ , she mused, slipping through the front door discreetly.

She crept into the dim, smoke-filled space, making her way to the darkest, loneliest corner she could find. She sighed, watching the piano man play vigorously, his talent for ragtime far outshining the axe lodged in his skull. She smirked, remembering running into Beetlejuice there for the first time, wasted out of his mind and blathering on about how hot he thought she was. _He was always an idiot_ , she mused.

Of course, the subject of Beetlejuice didn't cross her mind without leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. It was times like these that she regretted ever getting drunk and slipping that cursed ring on her finger. In a way, she felt bitter - just as bitter as the poltergeist was acting lately. Lydia felt cheated. All she had wanted to do was clear her conscience. She remembered how relieved she felt knowing that asshole hadn't turned into Sandworm food. He could be a nuisance, but he'd saved her beloved Maitlands, and he didn't deserve to be gone forever.

Then he trapped her ass! But that wasn't really the part that caused her feelings of resentment. He wasn't really _that_ bad, and he seemed to have a good side, despite his predisposition to commit tantrums. He even appeared to feel things for her, no matter how bizarre that seemed. It was the fact that all it took was one stupid night of drunken _what-ifs_ to do her in. By the time he'd told her how he felt, gotten pissed off at her for the thousandth time, and left her alone, she was confused and the alcohol didn't help the situation. Did he want to confuse her on purpose, or was Beetlejuice just that messed up himself?

He was just that messed up. She knew he'd wanted out badly, so he had no intention of being with her, even if he did have a soft spot for her. So if he didn't want to be with her, why the weirdness? With his lack of anger for not getting out, combined with his strange clingy outbursts, she had finally begun to see. It seemed as though he didn't really care about getting out so much at the end. As a matter of fact, he was pretty content being locked up in his cell for ten years instead of a thousand.

If he'd really wanted out that badly, all hell would've broken loose, and THAT is what seemed strange, even ten years ago. And if she were brutally honest with herself, she was glad he didn't go. Relieved, even. But what she hadn't equipped herself for, was the reality of being linked to the likes of Beetlejuice for all eternity, and all of the consequences that would entail. Ten years later, and she was still technically in shock.

All his erratic behavior, both before and after his sentencing, his strangeness, possessiveness - it all pointed to one thing. He seemed to genuinely want to be with her, and that was the single most terrifying thing of all.

Truthfully, she was very fond of him to a point she couldn't admit even to herself. She even found him to be a bit misunderstood, even if he deserved all the shit he got. He seemed to have a good side somewhere beneath all those layers of asshole, and by whatever cracked-out twist of fate, she was the one that brought it out of him. But, that didn't mean she wanted to deal with being with him in that way.

Sure, in theory it sounded all wild and fun, but that wasn't how it really was to Lydia. Eternity was a long time, and Beetlejuice was a very easily bored being. In her eyes, it would only be a matter of time until she became old news to him and he'd more than likely move along, even if it was behind her back. She couldn't even keep Eugene around, and he was certainly an asshole, but he came nowhere close to Beetle's level of douchery .

She cared for the poltergeist, but he was the ghost with the most for a reason. He wasn't your typical male. Something Lydia wouldn't consciously admit was the fact that if she truly accepted her fate as Mrs. Juice, she would be accepting a possible world of hurt, should he ever decide to screw her over. She just couldn't trust him. Things were more simple if they both remained securely in the platonic realm of their relationship. Henceforth, he could do what (or who) he wanted, she could do as she pleased, and they could still remain relatively close. She _did_ enjoy his company, after all. Besides, he couldn't cheat on her if there wasn't a real relationship in the first place, and especially if she completely allowed him to do as he pleased. It was the perfect way to keep her armor firmly in place and not let any emotional pain creep inside.

Now, if only he would quit trying to play house with her. Truthfully, Lydia didn't understand it in the least, and she certainly didn't trust it. Beetlejuice was a crass, womanizing lunatic. Why would he honor anything, let alone phony marriage vows? The only thing Lydia could figure was that it may be some sick ploy to potentially get in her pants. Why else would he be acting so strange? The fool could hardly keep his hands to himself around other women for more than ten minutes, let alone for an eternity. In her eyes, it would be impossible to be invested in a real marriage with the knucklehead.

"What'll it be, dear?" a droll, elderly voice inquired, pulling Lydia away from her angsty inner-workings.

"Whatever the strongest thing you've got is. I'll have that." Lydia blurted out, wincing as she realized she was imitating the very knucklehead that was making her afterlife way more complicated than it should be. _He really was a terrible influence, and she really should quit behaving like him_ , she thought. And she decided she would, after another bender, that is.

* * *

Lydia smirked, watching a pudgy man with a chicken leg-shaped bulge in his neck try to pick up a busty lady holding her decapitated head in her arm. Whatever he said to her had caused the lady to promptly set her head on the table in order to use both arms to shove his rather large, inebriated caboose to the floor, pick her head back up, and walk out the front door.

"Hehe...Fucker..." Lydia snorted, thinking of another fucker just like that fat one. What was already funny had been elevated to fucking hilarious, given Lydia had drank herself into a stupor. She couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter, knocking off a few empty liquor bottles into the floor, and causing them to shatter. "Oops..." she slurred, raising her hand to call back the old waitress.

During what seemed to be an eternity, the old woman scooted over, sighing. "Are you sure another drink is a good idea?" she scolded, her hands now on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"Yeah?" Lydia quipped. "And...uh...Maybe a broom and dustpan or something. I'll clean this up." she said sheepishly, feeling like a naughty child under the grandmotherly woman's scrutinizing gaze. Lydia wasn't so sure if it was the booze making things weird or if the old woman held a bit of sympathy in her eyes.

"We're ghosts, remember?" the waitress shook her head as she waved a hand and allowed her undead powers to vanish the mess.

"Oh, yeah..." Lydia nervously chuckled, turning her face away in embarrassment.

The waitress shook her head again, pulling up a seat and causing Lydia to feel real weird right about now.

"Is everything okay, young lady? This is the first time I've seen you in here in the last decade." she spoke in a hushed voice. The level of concern in her voice made Lydia feel strangely comforted and uneasy at the same time.

"Um, yeah. Well, I mean no, but yeah. Sort of. Maybe." Lydia answered, feeling as if every unsure word that fell from her drunken lips was only digging her deeper in her own shit.

"Listen, I heard what happened..." the old woman grew even more hushed in tone. "Is it true? Did that creep trick you into marrying him?"

"Uh..." Lydia stammered, completely at a loss for words and somehow feeling sobered up just by the jarring question. Part of her wished she could adamantly answer with a "God yes! Please help me!", purely due to the humiliation of the actual truth. Another part simply regretted marrying and kind of liking the most infamous asshole in the Neitherworld.

Now it was Lydia's turn to sigh. "No..." she said, lowering her head and feeling all of her drunken happiness fade. Silence grew between the two ghosts, and when Lydia grew brave enough to raise her eyes she was met with a strange look of pity from the old woman.

"I can't believe it." she spoke, barely above a whisper. "What happened?"

"Let's just say, he was a friend that I owed a huge favor. I was paying him back, and I made a stupid, drunken mistake one night. See, he had this, like enchanted wedding ring thing, and I kind of put it on for fun when I was drunk. Then I sort of bound myself to him for all of eternity. And, yeah..." Lydia shrugged, feeling more idiotic with each word. Damn, she was insane.

The waitress paused a moment, seeming lost for words. Lydia figured she'd put the old woman in shock from the sheer stupidity of what she was saying. Of course, she'd expected that.

"That bastard was your _friend_? How the hell did you end up with a friend like that?" she finally spat in near-disbelief.

"Well..." Lydia winced, not really wanting to go into the embarrassing details. Luckily, the woman's exasperation interevened, sparing her from having to tell them.

"I don't believe it. I watched that asshole come in here night after night, getting slapped by every hooker and hussy that waltzed through these doors. No tact, no manners, and he never pays! The only reason the owner doesn't press charges is because that shit has so many strings to pull it's impossible! He's done whatever he wants, and he gets away with it every damned time. He always goes to court, spends the minimal sentence, and he's out again. And I won't even start with all those powers he practically stole..." she spat, the frustration clearly showing on her wrinkled brow.

Lydia shrunk in her seat her eyes gazing at crudely, etched hearts, initials, and proclamations of love in the wooden table. Whether this lady intended it or not, their little talk was making her feel just as terrible as Beetlejuice himself. What had she been thinking all these years? Why did she ever give any thought to such a crooked, sneaky liar? Maybe she was just as fucked up as he was, after all.

Apparently, the woman must have taken pity on Lydia, for her withered hand reached across the table and pressed atop her own. "I don't know what he did, but I can bet he was up to no good when you crossed paths. He's an idiot, but he's a clever idiot. Is he treating you bad?"

"Bad? Oh, no! It's not that. I mean, we don't get along all the time. He's a pain in the ass as usual, but he's not like keeping me hostage or anything. Well, not anymore..." Lydia chuckled, blurting out something that confirmed the fact that alchohol does lower one's IQ considerably.

"Not anymore?!" the old woman gasped.

"Oh, I mean that was different. We had a deal, and he's just stupid, and he got pissed, and he put these big, ridiculous chains on the front...door..." Lydia slowed to a stop, realizing just how deep she was digging in it now. "Ya know, I'm just gonna stop right there. It's _complicated_." she winced.

"Look, pretty nice girls like you don't end up with losers like him without a catch. There's always a catch. I've seen it too many times. Of course, your case has to be the most extreme, but it has happened. And it never ends well. He isn't...using you for some wierd sicko fetish thing is he? That man's a raging pervert, as it is!" she bluntly inquired, causing Lydia to want to shrivel up and die. Again.

"NO!" Lydia nearly screamed, then noticing all eyes on her after that particular outburst, swiftly clamped her hand over her own mouth. "I meant, no." she whispered in a much lower tone. "He hasn't even touched me! Well, on purpose, anyway. Ugh, damnit!" Lydia smacked her forehead. When would she ever learn to quit drinking and blabbering everything that came to her mind?!

"What?!" the old woman gasped loudly, and Lydia gritted her teeth, feeling all heads turn back to them again.

"No! I mean, he was in bed with me, and he-"

"I knew he was a scoundrel!" the waitress interruped, causing Lydia to want to burst into flames and run screaming into the night. She simply hid her face in her hands, feeling beyond frustrated with all the assumptions. Even if they were rightful assumptions.

"No, it's really not like that. He _is_ my friend. He isn't doing anything bad to me..." Lydia sighed, defeated, and now too drunk and hopeless to care. Truly, no one seemed to understand. Her family was horrified, ghosts on the street had whispered and stared, and now this lady was throwing the book at them both. "Betelgeuse isn't _that_ bad. He's not treated me like that. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I think he just wants something I can't give him." she admitted, not realizing she spoke the forbidden name in her intoxicated state.

The old lady simply stared, her face contorted in a mixture of what seemed to be disgust and sympathy.

"Betelgeuse _wants_ me to be his wife. That's the problem. I-I've just gotten used to him. I'm fucked up. HE'S fucked up. This is crazy!" she began to unravel, as a strange static began to make her hair stand on end. However, her drunken tirade had begun and nothing was about to stop it, not even the stange unease that grew inside of her. "This marriage is a sham...It's not even real..." she admitted to the old woman, who also seemed uneasy, noticing faint sparks crackling around Lydia. "It's not that I hate him, I just don't trust him..."

The old lady looked about herself warily, before whispering to her. "Maybe you have good reason not to."

"Maybe. But what can I do? I can't just divorce B-" she began, only to feel her jaw clamp shut.

 _Don't say it._

Lydia grimaced. Oh, god. What had she done? She felt of her face, only to glance up at the old woman whose face was frozen in shock. Only then had Lydia realized that she'd been spilling the beans about everything. _Everything!_ Even Beetlejuice's name had been carelessly falling from her lips, and he'd always warned her against saying it.

 _Okay, I'm not saying it. I won't say it!_

It was at that very thought that a strange electric jolt went through her shoulder, as she looked behind her to see the gross, mossy hand that tapped it. She inhaled deeply, feeling her heart drop in her stomach, before her eyes followed the striped sleeve up to meet eyes with him.

"Hey, hiya, how y'all doin tonight?" he nodded exaggeratively to all the wide-eyed patrons as they gazed upon the spectacle. He wore his signature grin, but the way his green eyes burned when he glanced at Lydia told her he was likely to throw her to a Sandworm and laugh.

Lydia stood, her eyes just as wide, glancing at the old woman, who seemed frozen herself.

"Heya, Methusala. How 'bout two beers? One fer me, and one fer the little _wifey._ " he crooned, his voice thick with feigned happiness. He threw his arm around Lydia's shoulders and gave her a squeeze as he emphasized the last word.

The waitress said nothing, shooting Lydia a look that said _yes indeed you are a hostage_ , while slowly getting up and waddling off to fill Beetle's order that would ultimately never get paid anyway. Man, things were fucked up.

Lydia forcefully stepped away from Beetlejuice, wanting to glare at him, but feeling too afraid to do so. It was times like these that reminded her she'd accidentally married a maniac.

"Please, do sit, Mrs. Juice." he gestured, as a small jolt of electric in the air caused her to damn near fall into her seat from merely being startled.

He sat across from her at the small table and leaned over, inches from her face. The look in his eyes was a bit unsettling. Yep, she was definitely gonna end up as Sandworm shit.

 _Just play along._

Lydia's brow wrinkled, as she felt her jaw loosen. "...What?" she whispered.

 _For Christ sake, just play along, okay? Are basic instructions really that fuckin' complicated?!_

"Okay, geeze..." Lydia whispered.

 _Good._

At that very moment, Beetlejuice stood up. "Whaddaya mean you didn't know any better?!"

Lydia hesitated a brief moment, before standing up and forcing herself to improvise some sort of ridiculous fake argument for some godforsaken reason he hadn't yet revealed. "Well...I didn't! You never told me!" she yelled, feeling really weird and insane right about now.

"Damn, I didn't think I'd have to! Didn't think you'd go around blurtin' out the old B-mans name! You start doin' that, everybody in the damn afterlife might think it's okay! Well, it ain't!" he snarled, knocking over a table dramatically and making Lydia have to fight the urge to roll her eyes at his need to be over-the-top.

"Well, why shouldn't I?" Lydia screamed, folding her arms in fake defiance.

"Fer yer information, it's dangerous as hell! It's a fuckin' curse, okay? Anyone who says the B-man's name three times, gets sent to fuckin' Saturn! Fuck! I didn't think ya'd actually do it! Ya almost turned yerself into Sandworm shit!" he yelled grabbing her around the arms and shaking her in some weird ass attempt to look concerned. But then it donned on her. Was it true? Did she nearly do herself in? Was that really why she wasn't supposed to say his name?

"And that goes fer the rest of you dicksuckers!" Beetle aimed his venom at the speechless patrons in the room. "Anyone who says the name three times might as well jump on a silver platter and shove an apple up yer ass! Once those bastards sink their teeth in, that's it! Lights out, assholes!"

"...Really?" Lydia asked him in earnest, feeling dumbfounded.

"Yes, really! Yer lucky ya didn't end up as worm food!" he spat, still making a scene. "Oh, Honey Bunches! I coulda lost you!" he wailed, pulling her into him and giving her an overzealous bearhug.

She would have been pissed, if she hadn't been so stunned by what he claimed. She wasn't so sure if it was true, or if it was part of that weird fake argument thing. Either way, he really wanted to get the message out that no one should say his blasted name.

It was during that much-too-long embrace that the old waitress hobbled up to them both with two beers.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Beetle finally noticed the old woman, yanking a beer from her hands. "Guess we'll take 'em to go, eh _wifey_?" he glared at Lydia through a feigned grin.

"Oh, yeah. Of course." she nodded, before turning to the waitress and noting that the old woman still appeared very concerned.

Lydia faintly smiled at the waitress, before taking her beer and nodding politely. "Thank you."

"It's Francine, but you can call me Fran." she added, the look in her eyes practically begging Lydia to heed her warning. That look reminded her just why she felt so weird about her situation. She didn't trust the poltergeist, and neither did anyone else.

Lydia frowned, feeling a strange and nagging sensation inside of her. She couldn't let this go. Something inside of her _dared_ to test him. She turned back to the idiot that was technically her husband. "BJ, we need to pay the woman."

"Heh?" his face shriveled in near disgust.

"You heard me. I paid her earlier. It's your turn, _Honey Bunches_." she declared, lacing her last words with sarcasm.

"You serious?" he mouthed, apparently thinking this was potentially all an act. It wasn't.

Lydia nodded, hoping that she could gage his behavior and find evidence of his true character underneath all his shenanigans.

"Ugh.." he cringed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet, along with a few spiders and snakes, which splat on the floor at Fran's feet, causing her to jump back. "Here!" he spat hatefully, shoving a moldy wad of cash in her hand and glaring back to Lydia. "Happy?!"

Lydia, partly baffled by the fact that he agreed to do something on her behalf, simply stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Yeah...I am...somehow..."

"Eh, whatever. Let's go. Later fuckers!" he growled, grabbing Lydia and vanishing the two of them in a haze of putrid, green smoke.


	7. Spit It Out

Chapter 7: Spit It Out

Lydia arrived in the Roadhouse living room amidst a green haze of smoke. She sighed, opening her beer and taking a large gulp in order to wash away more of that disturbing confusion currently cooking up inside of her.

"Easy, Juice." Beetlejuice swiped the beer from her hand, taking a drink from it himself. "Wouldn't want ya gettin' liquored up again and runnin' that mouth. Shit could happen. _Unpleasant_ shit." he smirked, sitting the stolen brew on his table and materializing a cigar to puff on.

"So it's true? I could've sent myself to Saturn?" she asked in all sincerety, hoping to clear things up for her own sanity.

Beetle paused a minute taking an extra-long drag of his oversized cigar, most likely just to annoy her. "Yup." he said flatly, smoke barreling from his lips.

"Oh. Okay, then." Lydia answered, feeling really stupid. "Wow. I guess I really put myself in a bad spot. Others too." she mused, feeling that familiar bit of self-loathing trickle in. She shrugged, feeling defeated. "Sorry."

"Ergh, enough of that shit. Ya don't need to be apologizin' all the damn time!" Beetlejuice snapped. "It's weird."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You're calling _me_ weird? Have I really hit that low? Maybe I should've said it three times..." she remarked, partly in jest, partly exploring the possibility.

"Very funny, Juice. What, are we reverting back to the jump off a bridge phase? That weepy emo-goth shit?" he smirked.

"No! And my name's Lydia, by the way. Not 'Juice'." Lydia reminded him, currently not feeling amused with all the nicknames.

"Correction, _Lydia_." he snorted, waving his cigar at her. "Juice ain't yer first name, but it's still yer name, Darlin'."

Lydia shook her head, "Whatever. Well, I guess I owe you another thank you since you saved my ass from going to Saturn."

"Oh, I'm sure you could make it up to me somehow..." he leered, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.

"Friends." Lydia folded her arms, chuckling.

"With...benefits?" he raised a brow.

Lydia smirked, "Thank you. That's it." She laughed, somehow amused with his strange charm, turning her back to him and walking away. He did make for an amusing friend - emphasis on the _friend_ part.

"Hey! I don't feel thanked enough!" he shouted from behind her, obviously pretending to be angry. He could really be fun sometimes. It made her sort of regret blurting out that their marriage was a sham. She was sure that she'd regret that even more, once she'd fully sobered up come morning.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!"

Lydia shook her head, stepping into the room she'd decidedly designated for herself since the whole sleeping beside Beetlejuice debacle. She shut the door, drowning out his crazy attempt to annoy her, as she closed her eyes. The old storage room changed, complete with a bed and a dresser, and all the little touches she'd like in a place of her own. It really was better this way, she decided, her heart stinging a little.

She poofed herself into some comfy pajamas, before sitting on the edge of her bed. She exhaled, looking across the room at her own reflection in the mirror. He did pay for those drinks. He did it because she wanted him to. He seemed to go against his own nature for her, and the feeling that gave her was incredibly scary.

She had to push it away. Fran was right. Her family was right. The whole Neitherworld was against it. He was too unpredictable to be trusted.

"Heya...Lyds. Open up." Beetle spoke from the other side of the room, no longer sounding abraisive and obnoxious. It was unsettling to say the least.

"It's unlocked." she stated, as he opened the door.

He stood there, looking a bit uncomfortable, and that was scary as hell. Since when was Beetlejuice uncomfortable?

"Can I sit down, or are ya gonna push my ass in the floor again?" he smirked, lightening the weird tension she was feeling.

"Depends on what you try." Lydia teased. God, did this feel strangely awkward.

He shot her a glare, before sitting beside her. "Look, uh...I'm not good at this shit. Like, _at all_."

"Good at what?" Lydia asked, feeling strangely confused. There seemed to be a weird electricity in the air again. This time, however, it wasn't static and sparks. It was like a strange, low hum. She looked at the poltergeist, who was down to nearly the end of his cigar, fidgeting like a crack addict.

"That thing ya do all the time. That nice shit. Ya know, the shit I get on to you for, like all the fuckin' time." he muttered.

Okay, now she really was confused. "Why are you saying that? I thought you were going to burst me into flames or something when you showed up at that bar. I mean, you were so pissed..." she trailed off, realizing what he was actually trying to do. "Wait, are you trying to apologize to me?!"

"Er..." he growled. "I wouldn't go that far, Babe. I don't like that sorry shit. It's weak as piss, ya know? Fuckin' pussies do that shit."

"Uh, so what are you trying to say?" Lydia interrogated. He was just so strange.

"That I shouldn't be such a bastard to ya, okay?! Fuck!" he spat, looking as if he'd fly apart at any moment.

"...What?" Lydia whispered, taken completely aback by his confession. Just what the fuck was going on? Since when did the biggest asshole in the afterlife aside from Satan himself actually feel any remorse? The buzz of electricity grew louder, making her skin tingle with warmth. It was equally comforting and disturbing. Her undead heart began to beat faster. What was happening? What was this intoxicating feeling inside of her? "It's okay, BJ." left her lips, before she even thought. It was automatic.

"Yeah, yer too nice fer yer own good. I always told ya that. That's why yer stuck with my ass in the first place. I shouldn't have called ya a bitch. I mean, there's a lot of bitches out there, buy you ain't one of 'em." he admitted, rubbing his forehead and looking like he'd damn near die from having to be honest. Wait, was he dying again or something? Was that possible? Why was he being nice-ish?

"Are you okay?" Lydia grimaced, bracing herself for an outburst or something stupid at the very least.

"Yes, I'm fuckin' okay! See whaddimean? You expect me to be a dick cause I AM one! But you put up with my ass! And you put on that ring! So what am I s'posed to think? Ya don't hate me, ya don't wanna be with me, ya like me, yer nice to me...Fuck, I don't even know anymore. Shit wasn't supposed to go down like that! You were supposed to help me out, I was supposed to hook up with someone as shitty as me, you'd get yer powers back, I'd get some ass and freedom, and boom! Win-win!" he fumed, standing in his frustation and doing his normal ranting thing, except it wasn't really normal. He was serious. She hated when he was serious, because it always ended up in a mess of some sort.

"I know, I know...I wish I hadn't messed everything up for you, BJ. I'm-"

"DON'T SAY IT!" he yelled, clamping her mouth shut, and causing her to whimper in frustration. "Ah, fuck! See? There I go bein' an asshat again!" he growled, immediately loosening his grip, and possibly what sanity he had left. "Why'd ya do it, Lydia? Why. The. Fuck? Why'd ya put on the ring?" he hissed, throwing his arms out in frustration.

Never had she felt so put on the spot. Her mouth slightly gaped open, as she felt completely lost for words. No, she couldn't admit it. Not the pure, unadulterrated truth. It would be a fatal mistake. She couldn't even say it to herself in the darkest pits of her mind, let alone tell him. There could be far too many consequences. "I...I..."

"Well? Spit it out!" he insisted, looking like he was about to implode on himself.

"I didn't think it through, BJ. I was drunk." she forced herself to say, no matter what the results were. Even if he hated her forever, it would be better than if she admitted the unthinkable.

Lydia braced herself, staring at her feet and feeling like quite the fuckup. A strange silence filled the room, and she wondered if Beetle was even still there. She glanced up, seeing that he was just standing there, staring at her like a psychotic mental patient.

"Um...BJ?" she stood, backing away from him. "You aren't going to send me to Saturn or anything, are you?" she chuckled nervously, but she partly believed he might do just that.

"Er...Geeze, Babe. Ya really think I'm that much of an asshole, don't ya?" he winced, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, it's not that, it's just..."

"Just what?! Ya really think I'd send yer ass to be worm food? Ya really think I'm that cold?" he asked, almost sounding hurt, if the likes of Beetlejuice could experience hurt, that was.

Then she found some sort of conviction in his question. Did she really believe he'd harm her? If she had, truly, she wouldn't have stuck around so long. Then, what was this? Why was she so quick to think of him as potentially a big, scary, horny threat? She knew all that shit of his was sort of an act. _Sort of_. Perhaps she had an act of her own she didn't realize. Maybe she just had her own way of keeping him at arm's length.

"No. I really don't think that, BJ." she confessed, looking away from him. "I just..." she began, feeling dangerously close to admitting the truth.

"Just what?" he asked flatly, in a tone that seemed so honest it did actually scare her. He almost seemed human at that moment, but that was a lie. He wasn't just a ghost, he was a powerful, cunning poltergeist who always seemed to have an ulterior motive. Who knew what he could do to her? Now she was confusing herself more than ever.

"Um..." she gulped, feeling as if she were tiptoeing on the edge of a cliff right about now. She couldn't throw any off-handed remarks at him at the moment. He was onto her in some way, and she had no way out. If she lied now, he'd go mad wondering why she felt compelled to place the ring on her finger, and if she admitted the truth, she was dooming herself to misery.

"Babe, ya can't tell me puttin' that ring on was what 'friends do'. You knew what that ring was. You're bullshittin' me, Babe." he coerced, appearing to try to force the truth out of her. Oh, _he knew_. He'd known it the moment he'd found out that ring was on her finger. The moment she legally became Lydia Juice was the moment he knew she wasn't just the friend she'd claimed to be. The only person in denial here was her, and deep down, she knew it.

"Maybe it's not." she let it slip. There went another crack in her armor. "But maybe it's for the best that it is what 'friends do'." she explained, albeit somewhat cryptically.

"And, pray tell, Mrs. Juice, what exactly do you mean by that?" he stepped up to her, now grinning like a madman while he grabbed another cigar from thin air. Oh, shit.

"I mean, maybe it's better for both of us if we just remain friends." she admitted, avoiding eye contact with him as she rubbed her upper-arm nervously. She knew that she couldn't hide it. Hell, it was practically her version of admitting her feelings.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted, and the electric hum intensified, lulling Lydia into a strange, euphoric feeling. It was intoxicating, and though she was technically intoxicated, it was not the alcohol-induced type.

"Babe, how the hell is that better?" Beetle asked, stepping dangerously close to her, as she stepped back in response. All of a sudden, he sounded different, acted different, his expression even looked different. "I mean, it sure as hell ain't better fer me, if that's what ya mean." he said, stepping closer until she was backed against the wall. "I mean, look at ya." he said, his hands gently grabbing her forearms and sliding down to her hands. "Yer fuckin' beautiful. Why wouldn't an ugly bastard like me want to look at ya for all eternity? I won the fuckin' jackpot when you slid that ring on yer perty little hand." he drawled, sounding either really horny or really lovesick, and Lydia felt way too caught up in it, either way.

She found herself somehow being charmed by the asshole. "I...uh..." was all she could stammer. The hum in the air felt suffocating, like a drug. "What...is...this...feeling?" she managed to get out.

"Heheh...I knew it." he chuckled darkly. "Couldn't hide it forever..."

Oh, boy was he being smug about her big secret. It was just enough for her to get her grip. "So, is that it? You want something nice to look at? That's why you want us to be all happily betrothed?"

"Who said that was it? Oh, yer nice, _believe me_..." he growled, running a hand down her cheek. "No, yer fuckin' perfect. If I just wanted that I woulda' done it when I had the chance."

"Wait, what?" she quipped, snapping out of it for a moment. "What chance?"

"You got yer secrets...I got mine, Babe. Ya really wanna know?" he leered, as a strange sensation filled up inside of her, turning to dread.

"What?!" Lydia snapped, pulling away from him. Much to her surprise, he let her go with ease. He wasn't even being his gross, grabby, pervy self. This was so fucking scary.

"Ya done made out with me, Babe. Ya got wasted cryin' over that bastard Eustus or whatever the fuck his name was. I found ya and was tryin' to console yer ass and you decided to cram your tongue down my throat. And believe me, if I wanted to be that kinda guy, I could have." he explained, keeping his distance.

Lydia didn't know whether to laugh hysterically, cry, vomit, or do all three simultaneously. "No...I-I couldn't have done that..."

"Oh yes you could, and you did. Couldn't resist mah charms." he grinned smugly, causing her to feel faint.

"You're lying, BJ! There's no fucking way!" she scowled, stepping farther away, as he slowly shook his head in opposition.

"Nope. Nuh-uh. Negative."

"Fine, if it's the truth, then why didn't you? You bang every woman you can get your hands on! Why am I any different?" she spat, feeling a strange mixture of fear, anger, and something else she didn't want to address flood through her. The very feelings she'd tried to safely bury had come up with a vengeance.

"Whoa, there! You gettin' jealous, Babe? That it?" he grinned, seeming more proud of himself than ever. That was only making her want to wring his filthy neck.

"No!" she answered, not even convincing herself. _Shit._ She placed her hands on her hips in defiance. "Seriously. Why?! Why am I so special? How do I know this isn't just some ploy to get in my pants?"

Beetle chuckled, closing in on her again. "Like I said, Mrs. Juice, if I'd have wanted in yer pants, I woulda' snaked my way in there. Easily." he reiterated, as she stepped away to counter him. "You really wanna know? Then sit down. I ain't gonna bite yer ass...That is, unless ya want me to."

Lydia gave him her best _fuck you_ glare, before crossing her arms and sitting back down on her bed.

He slowly sat down beside her, seeming to keep his hands to himself, though he was a bit close for her comfort. "Look. I get it. I'm an asshole. I already told ya that. You know it. I know it. The whole damned Neitherworld knows it! Yeah, I did bang any broad I could get my hands on, which wasn't many. Then the ones I could jacked the prices up on me. Twats." he growled. "I did go to strip clubs and shit. I did want out. Like really fuckin' bad. You know why that was?" he asked leaning close to her and causing the hum to enter the room again, albiet subtly.

"You were horny?" she raised a brow, feeling more confused than ever.

"Well, yeah, but..." he threw his hands up. "That's not the point. I'm always horny. I was lonely as fuck, okay? Look, I was a dick when I was alive and I died and became a bigger dick. Nobody likes me. I fucked myself over. Yer the only one who ever gave me the time of day."

"So I'm your last resort." Lydia huffed, not feeling any less icky and bewildered.

"Fuck, no!" he snapped. "You ain't helpin' me out here! That's not how I meant it."

"Then what do you mean?" Lydia asked, her emotions now teetering between scorn and hurt.

"I meant what I said that night I scared the shit outta yer ex. I think yer the shit. Seriously. I think your probably the best person I've ever met, living or dead." he began, his tone sounding strangely human and living and breathing. It was enough to cause Lydia to freeze in place. His strange, twisted persona dropped, if only for a moment. "I mean, look at ya. Perfect. You ain't a big, stupid asshole like me. You got dealt a shitty hand in life, ya ran into my dumb ass, then died, then came back to tell me _you're_ sorry _. I_ should be sorry! I fucked you over, not the other way around. I just can't fathom that shit. I've always been a spiteful ballsack, but you? You're kind, Lydia. Too kind to a bad guy like me. And ya don't have to be. You just are. I don't know what the hell you're even doin' in the Neitherworld. If it wasn't for me tryin' to con you into marriage, you'd probably be in Paradise now, cause yer a fuckin' angel." he said, causing that same, rythmic trance in the air from before. She stared down at her feet, too stunned for words. Was he really saying all that?

"I don't know what to say." she said, barely above a whisper. It was too much, far too much too soon. She couldn't even process it.

"Hell, ya don't have to say anything." he chuckled, as she felt his hand begin to rub her back affectionately.

Who even was this person? What kind of cruel trick was this? Maybe she really did deserve such divine punishment. What kind of person could love a maniac? What did that make her?

Everything stood still, until her hesitation finally broke. "What if I told you it was safer for me to be your friend?" she asked pitifully, finally meeting his gaze.

He paused for a moment, and Lydia could've sworn she'd seen his eyelid twitch from her words. "Or...or...!" he raised his finger. "Hey, Babe. Just here me out."

Oh, god. Not another bargain.

"Maybe we can do the friend shit, uh, I mean thing...with a slight _stipulation_." he added cunningly.

"And what's that?" Lydia's brow furrowed in yet more confusion.

"Bein' that ya give me a chance. Think about it, Babe!" he snaked his arm around her, pulling her into him and turning back into his old self again. "Yer afraid I'm gonna stay an asshat, right? Well just gimme time to prove I can be a good boy. You don't think I give a shit, well lemme prove that I do! I'll never touch another ass or titty again. Scouts honor! Or unless it's your-" Beetle stopped himself right there, noticing Lydia's frown. "I mean, outside the marriage, Dollface. I don't even like stripclubs and shit anymore. Do I feel like drinkin? I'll stay home and get trashed with you! Do I feel like smokin' a blunt? I'll grow weed in mah bedroom!"

"You smoke weed?" Lydia raised a brow.

"Does it really surprise ya?" Beetle asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"No. I guess I just never thought about it." she shrugged.

"Well see, Darlin? We're already learnin' new things about each other! Ain't love grand?" he exclaimed, giving her a squeeze, in his usual over-the-top style.

"I don't know." Lydia hesitated.

"Look," he spoke plainly again, easing off on his persona. "I care, whether ya wanna believe it or not. How can I prove it to ya, if you won't give me a chance?"

 _Damnit_. He'd put her on the spot again. Lydia studied the idea, wanting nothing more than to try it, save for the one thing that was still holding her back. That was her fear. "...What happens if after all that, I can only be your friend?" she asked in earnest.

"Fuck. You really want me to answer that?" he grumbled.

Lydia nodded, finding herself curious to his response.

"Fine, I'll answer, but you gotta tell me why first. Just so I know this ain't some baited question bullshit." he narrowed his eyes at her, showing a bit of distrust himself.

"Okay. Fair enough." she nodded, hoping her honesty would bring out more of his own. That was what it was all about, right? "I just don't want to ruin what we already have. That's a place I can't back out of. Things will never be the same. I just don't know if I can handle it." she shrugged, twiddling her thumbs. "Eternity is forever, BJ." she stated, feeling the entirety of those words. "So will you be there if I say no?"

"Fuck, Babe. You act like I got a choice." he snorted, patting her shoulder affectionately. "If you haven't noticed, you've had me by the freakin' balls since you came back. Pretty sure yer stuck with my ass, one way or the other."

Lydia smiled warmly, before slightly scowling. "Yeah, but won't it piss you off like it always does?"

"Probably, but you know my ass. I'll get over it. I know you've got the hots fer the old B-man anyway. Guess that's enough to satisfy me fer now." he snorted, giving her a sly look. "So, do we have a deal, Mrs. Juice?" He grinned widely, offering a hand.

"Sure. It's a deal." Lydia smiled, offering her own. He took her hand and held it in his own.

"No need to shake on it." he admitted, simply holding her hand. Was Beetlejuice actually good at being romantic? That was all kinds of fucked up that Lydia couldn't wrap her drunken brain around. "Alrighty." he shrugged, letting her go. "Guess I'll see ya in the mornin' compadre."

Lydia grinned. "Yeah, guess so." she nodded, climbing into her own bed.

Beetle walked to the door, flicking off the light switch. "Goodnight, Juice."

"Goodnight, BJ." she replied, closing her eyes and hearing the door close gently, blocking out the last of the light. She wasn't sure how she'd fare with all this once she was sober, but it would probably include a hefty dose of regret. Either way, it was all true, and she couldn't take it back now if she'd tried.


	8. Disturbed

Chapter 8: Disturbed

Beetle sulked down the hallway, quietly closing his bedroom door shut, then leaning against and sliding down said door in despair.

"Fuck!" he hissed under his breath, wiping a grimy hand down his face. That was it, he'd officially stretched his own testicles out and snipped them off in the name of Lydia Juice. And he wasn't even guaranteed to get her in the end.

He sighed, poofing a bottle of whiskey beside himself. If it wasn't for his teeny-tiny little secret, he'd be completely helpless against her. Of course, the very secret that gave him power, was the same one that brought him that pesky, shitty guilt that he used to be able to stuff down into his mental guilt box and stick a nice, pretty bow on top of. Apparently, fate just flipped him the bird and decided that he got to actually feel bad about things now. _Wooptee-fuckin-doo_.

He shrugged to himself, taking a swig of whiskey. "Had to do it..." he muttered, thinking of her. She was probably far too kind to ever use it against him, but he couldn't take any chances, so he never told her, or anyone for that matter. So what if he told her some slight untruths about his name? And by slight untruths he meant giant, whale testicle sized lies? It was practically self-defense! She didn't need to know what she, in particular, was capable of. He was pretty sure that anyone else knowing would fuck him over, too, but being tied to him made her much more powerful. She was strangely more powerful than usual to begin with, and that was enough to make him keep it to himself. If Lydia were to say his name three times, she'd completely gain power over him until she willingly let him go. All mortals could do was bring him to and from the planes of existence, but if the undead were to use his name, they could control him, and doom him to an afterlife of miserable servitude. Yeah, no way he could let that shit out.

Beetlejuice fumbled about, getting up from his gloomy spot on the floor. He turned, his eyes darting across the offensively girly blankets marked with his signature cigarette burns. He smirked, then unceremoniously chugged the rest of his drink, dropping the bottle in the floor.

Damn, he couldn't believe he just told her all that shit. He crawled onto the bed, laying back and gazing at the ceiling. She'd given him no choice. He could feel her fear and loathing from a hundred miles away. He began to feel like a shit for treating her so bad, and he felt like he almost cut too deep that time. There was only so many tantrums and dipshit moves that a ghost could take, and even a sweet soul like Lydia could be driven away, if given enough reason. He sure as shit didn't want that.

He chuckled to himself, thinking about just how hard she was trying to hide the way she felt. It was kind of cute, even if it had been a pain in the ass. He'd almost thought he was going crazy. He almost thought she was serious about her lack of feelings, but just like the static in the air, it was there. Maybe he'd put off telling her about that fate-bond shit for a while. Besides, it was all just rulebook jargon, anyway, and it didn't guarantee she'd ultimately love him back, what with free will and all that bullshit.

Either way, she was stuck with him for all eternity, whether she wanted to be or not, and it seemed she rather wanted to be. That in and of itself was nothing short of a fucking miracle, considering what a prick he was. Regardless, she was perfect, and she was there, and that was good enough.

* * *

Beetle opened his eyes, as the orange light of day penetrated the window, blaring into them. "Shhhiiit..." he yawned, feeling hungover, which was basically normal for him.

He rolled over, adjusting his wiggly bits before leaving his bedroom and scaring the shit out of Lydia with his junk all standing at attention. That was the last thing he needed, given the fact that he spent half the night trying to convince her he wasn't always a raging pervert. He could barely convince himself of that, so it was yet another miracle that he could even say that without being jabbed in the groin with a right hook.

Strangely enough, it wasn't so hard to be a decent guy to her in that way. He really didn't want to piss her off, and if it meant hot gluing his dick to his leg, he'd gladly do it to be with her. Besides, she was far too good for that kind of thing, and he wasn't about to mess a good thing up.

Finally, his nether regions settled enough for him to go piss and not put an eye out. He strolled to the john, took a piss, and didn't even scold himself for putting the seat down like a little bitch. Hell, it was necessary at this point. He even washed his hands, though it really didn't help that gross, corpsey thing he had going on.

He looked at his mug in the mirror. "Heh. Pussy." he smirked at himself, half in jest, half reprimanding himself as he was prone to do. As pathetic as it was, he didn't give a shit at that point. He'd be pathetic for her. Actually, he'd been pathetic for a while now, and it would probably only get worse. Yet again, he didn't care. He simply grinned, leaving the seat down and making sure the bathroom smelled like potpourri and girly shit just for her.

In fact, he was in such a nutless stupor, that he ran over the object of his affection, bumping into her and knocking her into the floor as he left the bathroom.

"Oh, shit!" she squeaked, falling on her ass. _Good way to start off,_ he scowled, berating himself.

"Uh, my bad, Babe." he knelt down, pulling her obviously hungover self up from the floor.

"It's okay, BJ..." she trailed off. "Shoulda watched where I was going." Lydia continued, rubbing her head and frowning.

"So, uh..." he began awkwardly, not really knowing how to act now that the proverbial cat was out of the bag. "You need somethin' fer that? Coffee?"

"Yes, definitely. Yes." she squinted, staggering about as he took her by the arm to balance her. This was awkward as fuck, and he wasn't good with awkward. Hell, he never used to feel awkward until Lydia came back into his life, and given his particular situation, it had evolved to awkward on steroids.

He helped her move to his recliner, where she propped her feet up and rubbed her temples. He quickly zapped a cup of joe into his hand and gingerly gave it to her. "Careful, Babe. It's hot." he said, now feeling stupid as fuck for stating the obvious. This being nice shit was weird as hell.

She quickly took a sip and those big brown eyes glanced up at him warmly. "Thanks, BJ." Eh, maybe being nice had its perks.

"No problem, Babe." he said, flicking on the T.V. Luckily, he hadn't watched any porn since he was released from prison, so he didn't have to quickly change the channel. The problem was, he didn't know what the hell to watch, or do, or say now that he'd poured his heart out to her. "Uh...Anything ya wanna watch?"

Lydia simply shook her head. "Not really. Feeling like shit is kind of preventing any sort of entertainment right now. I'll be okay in a while, I guess. Just watch what you want."

"Alright, news it is." he muttered, already feeling dejected.

* * *

"Heh? What?" Beetle grunted, feeling the remote being pulled from his hand. Apparently, he'd grown bored and had fallen back asleep about ten minutes after cursing himself to watching the Afterlife Morning News. It was now evening, and a much more alert Lydia had tried to sneek the controller away without waking him.

Lydia sheepishly finished pulling the remote away. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Eh, not like I had anything better to do." he shrugged. "You feelin' better?"

Lydia hesitated briefly, before answering him. "Mostly."

He raised an eyebrow, feeling her vibrations all around him. She was feeling better, but something was off about her. "Anything ya wanna talk about?" he prodded, out of sheer curiousity.

Lydia sat beside him, giving him that same warmth he'd felt since the bond was formed. That was a good thing, he determined. Her nose wrinkled up. "This is weird isn't it?"

"What's weird?" he narrowed his eyes, feeling wary. Shit, hopefully she wasn't gonna throw in the towel this soon.

"This." she motioned to herself, then to him. "This thing. This whole thing. It just feels weird."

"What the hell's wrong with weird?" he snapped, before thinking. _Shit._ "I, uh...mean that don't mean it's bad."

"So all that _was_ real." she spoke, bringing her hand up to her mouth. "It all seemed like a bad dream. Oh, god..." she appeared to be on the verge of panic. Now the air was changing. It was prickly and full of fear and worry.

"Woah, woah, woah...Now, don't go all apeshit on me, Juice! Fuck! I mean, calm down, Babe." he said, attempting to be civil and failing miserably. "Why are you so freaked out by it?"

"I guess because I was wasted! I can't believe I agreed to that, and that _you,_ of all people, said all that! Was this another trick? Or, or..."

"No, it wasn't a fuckin' trick, Babe! Why the hell do I need to trick ya now? We're already hitched! I didn't even put it on ya, and once again, I coulda! What the fuck do ya want from me?!" he huffed, finding himself reverting back to his dick-headed ways. "Shit!"

"Wait, wait...Yeah, you're right, BJ. It wasn't all the drinking. I'm just really wierded out right now. All this is new to me. I'm not sure what to do." Lydia admitted, her brow furrowed with what appeared to be worry, and even that look was cute as hell.

"How about nothin'? Or just whatever comes to your mind?" he suggested, trying his best to be helpful. Given her reaction, his newfound behavior could make him her legit husband, or her permament bitch. Either way, he was still going to try.

"Yeah. I know. I'll try that." she spoke, sounding as if she'd hyperventilate at any given moment. "Sorry about that."

Beetle gritted his teeth, trying his best not to go on a tirade about her mopey apologizing shit. He absolutely _despised_ when she said that crap. She had nothing to be sorry about, and it literally just made him feel like a massive ballbag every time she did it. "Babe." he stated flatly between clinched teeth. "None of that."

"Right...Ugh, I'm a mess. Like I feel like a mental patient, like a need a big straight jacket to hug myself in right now." she continued to go off. Yeah, this wasn't good.

"Ya need a hug? Fuck, I'll give you a hug!" Beetle shrugged, trying his best to remedy her weird bout of paranoia or whatever.

"No!" she snapped, jumping up.

"Okay, Babe, no hug!" he held up his hands defensively. "It was just a suggestion, not a fuckin' demand." Oh yeah, he was supposed to be all nice about it. "I meant..." _Ah, fuck it_. "Uh..."

"Shit! There I go again..." Lydia huffed, running her hand through her hair nervously. It would be really sweet and endearing if she wasn't acting like a fucking lunatic. "Sorry, I mean-"

"Fuck!" Beetlejuice stood, grabbing her by the arms. "Pull it together! And for the last fuckin' time, don't say that word! Do it again, and I'll clamp yer trap shut!" he spat, trying his best to shut her up, even if he wasn't necessarily nice about it. Hell, it's not like she'd given him a choice. "...Understand, Mrs. Juice?"

Lydia inhaled deeply, seeming to collect herself. She exhaled, nodding, as he let her go. "It's a bad habit, BJ. I just apologize for everything."

"Yup, I know _all_ about it. Ya ever think that's why you ended up in this mess with me? I'm kinda the asshole that took advantage of that shit. I mean, you coulda' left my ass alone, but you came to me wantin' forgiveness for a bunch of shit I started! Just...stop it." he muttered, trying to be less harsh, even though it was damned hard to do so.

"I just thought it was the right thing to do." Lydia replied softly, averting her eyes from him.

He sighed. "Did it ever occur to you that shit could be someone else's fault? Cause it was. I did it. I knew it was wrong, and I fucked you over. You lost your power and memories cause of my bullshit. You wandered the streets like a homeless person cause of me. I'm a bastard, remember? I got kicked out of the Bloody Mary multiple times cause I groped bitches! I mean, not as many times as everyone says, but still! I kept you as a prisoner, too! Betcha didn't forget about that! Really, Lydia? _You're_ sorry?"

He glared at her in exasperation, as she wrung her hands nervously. God, she was fidgety lately. He didn't realize just how insecure and anxious she really was until the truth had all come out. It was kinda sad, and he didn't do sad very well, like ever.

"...But..."

"Fuck, and here we go. There's a BUT! There HAS to be a freakin' but!" he threw up his hands. "But, what?"

"You saved Adam and Barbara. I wouldn't have them without you." she reminded him. "I've told you that before. I know you didn't forget it, BJ."

"Here we go again, with Adam and Barbara." he scoffed, mocking her. "I only did it so I could marry yer ass and get out. There ain't one damned heroic thing about it."

"You still saved them, though. You could've let them wither away."

She was way, way too good for him. "Ugh...There's no winnin' with you, is there?"

"Well, I don't mean it that way. I just felt bad for you because I thought that Sandworm actually devoured you. I'd lay awake at night sometimes and wonder if I somehow caused your death. I guess I was just happy to find you alive." she explained, her voice now a bit shaky.

Damn. "Okay. I give up. I don't know what else to say to ya. I was a bad guy then, and I'm a bad guy now, but I'm really tryin' to be not so bad. I, uh...think I need a drink on that note." Beetle resigned, stepping into the kitchen just to cool off to prevent another blow up.

"Shit! I knew I made it worse. I shouldn't have told you all that stuff last night..." Lydia frowned, rubbing her forehead. "I think I'm gonna go to Gerald's for a bit to clear my head."

Beetle, who was now in the middle of chugging a beer, involuntarily spit said beer all over the wall. "What? You don't need to go to _him_!"

"BJ, he's my friend. I just need to talk to him." she insisted.

"I thought _I_ was yer friend. You don't need to talk to that tub of lard. Just talk to me! I'm right fuckin' here, Babe!"

"I know, but that's different." Lydia stated impatiently, crossing her arms.

"I thought it was supposed to be the same, wifey!" he countered, now just being a smartass because Jerryroll wasn't supposed to be in the picture.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be back." she declared, before vanishing in a haze of purple.

"Not without me, ya won't." he growled, finishing his beer and smashing it against the wall. He then vanished into a cloud of green smoke, following right behind her.


	9. Suffocation

Chapter 9: Suffocation

Lydia appeared in Gerald's living room, surprising him as he dusted what was left of his furniture.

"Oh, Lydia! Good gracious, you startled me!" he chuckled, setting his feather duster to the side. "Please, do make yourself at home!"

"Don't mind if I do." Lydia smiled warmly, taking a seat on his sofa.

"Well, can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?" he offered, showing her even more hospitality than usual, and that was saying a lot, considering he was a very well mannered, generous man to begin with.

"Oh, no Gerald. No need to make a fuss over me." she chided, waving away his offer.

"Forgive me, Lydia. I don't mean to be so overzealous. I'm just happy to see you again. I wasn't sure I was going to have the pleasure..."

"Damn, Lyds. Whaddaya been doin' for this dweeb? He's awfully happy to see yer ass." a coarse, grumpy voice remarked from behind her. She noticed that Gerald had frozen in place in his chair, eyes wide as saucers and sweat pouring down his forehead.

She turned to lock eyes with an obviously miffed poltergeist. "What are you doing here, BJ?" she asked, making sure to glare at him to get her point across.

 _Quit that Medusa-eye shit. I ain't scared of you._

Lydia's gaze instantly fell, as she began to feel a bit defeated. She just needed some space, and he was too damned possessive to give her any. Maybe she could at least soften him up a bit, for Gerald's sake.

 _You don't have to be so mean about it._

At first, he didn't respond to her thought. He simply invited himself over and plopped down on the sofa beside her.

 _I'm workin' on it._

"Well work _harder_." she demanded. "Why are you here?"

"Because, Mrs. Juice, I wasn't told I had to stay behind this time." he retorted, looking pretty smug about his little loophole of freedom.

"Ugh, you probably wouldn't stay behind if I told you to." she rolled her eyes, feeling embarrassed that her friend had to put up with her husband.

"That would be correct." he declared, before belching loudly in an obvious attempt to piss her off more.

"Fine." she huffed, realizing his clingy behavior appeared to have no end.

"Mr. Juice, can I get you anything?" Gerald finally seemed to snap out of it, trying his best to accomodate Beetlejuice and get along.

"Why yes!" Beetle cleared his throat, and began using his best British accent. "Sir, I'd like for you to kindly dislodge your head from my wife's backside."

"BJ! Stop it!" Lydia cringed, feeling the urge to slap him silly.

"Fine, but I said it all _nice_! Ya wanted me to be _nice_ , remember?" he grumbled, crossing his arms like a spoiled child throwing yet another tantrum.

"Stay here, BJ! C'mon, Gerald." she grumbled right back, as she stood and grabbed a terrified Gerald by the arm and led him into his study, slamming the door shut behind them.

Lydia blew a sigh of exasperation, turning to Gerald. "I am so sorry about this. He wasn't supposed to show up here and start acting like a petulant asshole."

 _There ya go with that apology shit again. You know I hate that._

Lydia gritted her teeth, sending a thought right back to him.

 _Fuck you. It's common courtesy. Quit listening in through the door you ding dong!_

"Lydia, no need to apologize. I really just hope you're okay." he assured, as he glanced about himself warily. "You _are_ okay, aren't you?" he whispered.

"I am. Believe me." she spoke in a hushed tone herself, aware that Beetle was more than likely not getting away from the door. "He's just being so damned suffocating at the moment. I hate to rush off, but this is getting me nowhere. I'm going to have a talk with him."

Gerald nodded pitifully in return. "Just don't get yourself hurt or anything."

There it was - another potential warning. That was the very reason she was so freaking traumatized right now. Beetlejuice was public enemy number one, and she'd just confessed her feelings for him. On top of that, she had very little time to act or even think on the fact that she'd told an outsider about their fake marriage fiasco. If Mr. Juice became this irate over a male friend of hers, what would he do if he found out she'd exposed them to the public? Not to mention, if that information fell into the wrong hands, then they could be thrown in jail, and particularly for Beetlejuice, that could be a very, very long time.

"Hey, HEY!" Alright! What's goin' on in there? It's too damned quiet! Lydia, I know yer up to somethin!" an angry voice boomed from the other side of the door, which she had locked. Of course, that wouldn't keep him out. She knew better.

"Quick, Gerald! Grab a book and open it!" she insisted.

"Uh, which one? There are so many..." he began to dawdle, becoming lost in his collection as he was apt to do.

"That one!" she pointed to the closest book on the desk. He nodded quickly, grabbing it and opening it just in time for the angry poltergeist to materialize in the room. This was ridiculous! She should never have to put another ghost through Beetlejuice's bullshit.

"What now?" Lydia huffed, throwing her hands up in irritation.

"The fuck you lookin' at, Jerry?" he scowled, grabbing the book out of Gerald's hands and causing the poor man to gasp. He was practically drenched in sweat.

"The Wild World of Botany _...Plants_? Lyds, you come here to look at books about plants with a fat guy? The fuck is wrong with you?" he scowled, tossing the book back to Gerald, who nearly dropped it due to his nerves.

"I'm ready to go now, BJ." she stated flatly, realizing she'd failed miserably in her effort to get away from the ghost.

She walked over to Gerald, placing a hand on his shoulder and causing him to freeze. "Gerald, I'll see you later. I didn't mean to be a bother."

"Uh...It's no bother, Lydia." he said meekly, hunched over in fear.

"Alright, alright! Enough of that." Beetle grabbed her by the arm, pulling her away. "Later, Tubby." he spat, vanishing both of them into thin air.


	10. Going Out

Chapter 10: Going Out

As soon as Lydia appeared in the Roadhouse, she began to storm away from the maniac she'd married.

"Hey! Where ya goin?!" he fumed, storming right in behind her. "Listen, Dollface, ya can't get away from me, so ya may as well not even try!"

Lydia went into her room, slamming the door in his face, which of course, wouldn't hinder his plans to stalk her through their house. "I need some space!" she shouted, just to let it out, because she knew her plea would fall on his grungy deaf ears.

"Ya had yer space playin' book club with Jerrymonger." he formed in a green fog beside her.

"No, I didn't, BJ! You had to follow me and be a jerk to him! You are supposed to be nice, remember?" she promptly reminded him, shaking her finger in his face to drive the point home.

"It ain't nothin' to do with me bein' nice to you! That's not you, Babe! That's a fat tub of lard that I don't like ya bein' around!" he spat, getting in her face and making her feel terrible.

"You know, for someone who claims to care about me, you sure don't act like it." she spoke, her voice trembling a bit from frustration and something else she didn't have the energy to acknowledge.

"Bullshit! I act that way cause I _do_ give a rat's ass! I gotta be careful. If you go blabberin' to all yer friends about our little situation, there's a chance you'll tell too much. If you spill the beans, we're done for." he growled, his tone low and threatening.

She'd already spilled the beans and that was a gigantic problem for another day, but for now, she was troubled, confused, exhausted, and now deeply curious to what exactly he meant by _done for._

"So, we go to prison? Is that it?" she raised a brow, her curiosity pulling her from their heated argument.

"Yep, potentially." he answered shortly.

"And just what does that mean?" she pushed on, feeling very strange about the way he answered her.

"It won't end well, Lydia. I ain't gettin' caught again. You can forget it. The stakes are too high fer me. I'd get a thousand years if I got lucky, but I doubt I'd get lucky. You might get twenty, tops." he muttered, seeming to not want to talk about it any further.

However, her naturally curious streak wouldn't sit with that. "So what will you do about that?"

"There's only two choices we got right now. We give in and do the real marriage thing and not blab about it, or bad shit happens." he grumbled, looking at the floor. "Don't make me do bad shit, Lydia."

A strange, hot electric ran through her. It was alarming and, quite frankly, terrifying. It was coming from him, and it was not pleasant in the least. Making it all the more disconcerting, was the fact that she'd already fucked up before she'd even realized it.

"You, uh, haven't told anybody, have you?" he asked nervously, his eyes looking her over. Holy shit, he was dead serious, and she was more than fucked!

She silently shook her head, knowing the anxiety in her voice would possibly give her away.

"Well, just don't do it. It won't end well, Babe." he warned. What the hell was up with all these warnings? Even _he_ was warning her about himself! Boy, she really screwed herself over this time, and she could only blame herself. How could she be so damned careless about something so huge and damnable?

"And don't go touchin' on that Butterball. It's gross as fuck..." he muttered, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and taking a drag. Lydia could've sworn she'd seen his hand faintly tremble as he brought it up to his lips. This was bad. _Really,_ _really_ _bad._

"Okay. I won't." she shrugged, trying not to burst into tears that very moment. "That was stupid." she went along with what he was saying, though her self-loathing was directed at a secret matter he didn't know about. She sighed and walked out of her room, head hanging down.

All of a sudden, she felt like that depressed, angsty teenage girl all over again, with a chip on her shoulder and an insane poltergeist crumbling her world apart. Just when it seemed everything could be falling into place, just as quickly, it was falling away from beneath her. Life sucked, and the afterlife sucked even more. Sure, she still had her family in Winter Rivers, but she wouldn't even be able to see them if she was locked away. To boot it all, Beetlejuice wasn't telling her just how bad things could get, and that meant something even more terrible was in store.

She opened the front door, propping herself against the Roadhouse and juicing a bottle of vodka in her hand. She shrugged, taking a drink. Why shouldn't she? Things were fixing to get really awful, and just how awful, she had yet to find out. She may as well enjoy herself before the inevitable.

"What the fuck are ya doin?" Beetle popped his head out the door, grabbing her booze away.

Lydia seethed, narrowing her eyes on him. "Since when did you start caring how much I drank? If I'm not mistaken, you used to encourage it."

"Yeah, well...I'm tryin' to watch out fer ya...and me..." he added, knocking back her bottle to take a drink himself. Little did he know, he was far too late.

Feeling too terrible to stew on her gargantuan dilemma, Lydia decided to switch topics and force it from her mind. "You shouldn't be such an ass to Gerald." she stated, deciding to scold him. "He hasn't done anything to you."

"Oh, shit. Here we go with obese Poindexter again...Look, I told ya why I don't want ya talkin' to the guy. Besides, the fucker could get _ideas_."

"What ideas?" Lydia glared.

"Ones that would land him in his second grave." Beetle glared back.

Lydia's face twisted into confusion. "So you're jealous? Of Gerald?"

"Woah, woah, now, Babe! The B-man doesn't get jealous, especially when it comes to chubby little fuckers with high cholesterol and plant fetishes!" he snapped, curling up his nose in disgust. "I don't know what the fuck you see in him."

Lydia smirked. This would almost be amusing, if she didn't have the black shadow imminent doom now following shortly behind her. "He's nice, BJ."

"The fuck's wrong with me?" he griped, motioning to himself. "I'm nice."

It was all Lydia could do not to burst into maniacal laughter. "...I think your nice could use an overhaul."

"Er...Hey, I told ya I'm tryin', Babe! And I wouldn't be this damned nice if it weren't for you! Rome wasn't built in a freakin' day!" he reiterated his point, clearly exasperated.

Seeing Beetle's frustration, Lydia decided to back off, considering this was technically the calm before the storm. "I know, BJ. For what its worth, I do see... _miniscule_...improvements..." she winced. That was supposed to be a better compliment than it was.

Beetle gave her the best visual representation of _fuck off_ his face could muster. She couldn't help but snort after seeing that.

"Kidding! I'm kidding!" she laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder to butter him up a bit and potentially deflect any possible rage fit he could have.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Juice..." he replied, making sure the tone of his voice showed his blatant disbelief, as his eyes trailed from her hand up her arm and to her face and stopping there a bit too long for her comfort.

That weird, awkward silence fell between them for a brief moment, before he opened his grimy mouth. "Heya, if ya wanna go somewhere, you can just go with me, Babe. You don't need that dorky friend a' yers to have a good time. I can show ya that."

Oh, shit. _This could be a potential disaster_ , Lydia thought, depending on how fast news was spreading. She had to deflect, and quick. "You're not taking me to another strip club, are you?" she asked, trying her best to sound annoyed.

"What?! Hell, no! That was just an attempt to piss in yer cheerios, and it didn't work anyway 'cause you like bein' all benevolent and shit. I think you'll like this." he remarked slyly.

Apparently, he wanted to surprise her, and that gave her just enough room to try and wriggle out of it. "I don't think so..."

"And is there a reason yer turnin' me down? You didn't turn fat boy down!" His eyes narrowed. "There somethin' you ain't tellin' me?"

Shit, she was losing the battle! "Well, how do I know this isn't some lame trick like last time? I'd rather not end up in a room full of naked women for you to ogle at. It's gross." she quickly remarked, trying to regain her footing in their little exchange.

"Fuck! I don't care about naked broads, I told ya! That was a prank. Besides, if I wanted to see a pair of big, floppy tits I'd go to Jerry's place and make him give me a lap dance." he snorted, making sure to take another jab at her poor comrade. "If ya want me to be nice, I'll be freakin' nice, but ya gotta let me do it!"

"...I don't know." Lydia hesitated, running out of ways to potentially not go out without being suspicious.

"Okay, then. What's the deal?" he asked, genuinely curious, and now bordering on suspicion. "There any particular reason we shouldn't go out?" he raised a brow, while swishing the remaining vodka around in the bottle. Okay, he was growing agitated now. Any farther, and he'd push it out of her just like he did about her feelings. He was unfortunately good at interrogating. No doubt, it was from all those years of criminal behavior.

Now, she had to give in. "So no strippers? Seriously?" she asked, pretending to be really concerned about strippers, which she in fact, was not.

"Heheh..." he laughed smugly, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her to his side. "I already told ya, the B-man only has eyes for you, Doll." he said slyly, getting a little too close for her comfort, especially considering that those happy feelings he was experiencing didn't include the fact that she'd potentially fucked them both over. "Has anyone ever told ya yer _reeeaaal_ cute when yer jealous?" he growled in her ear, causing her internally cringe. Sure, he was smitten with her now, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't be so lovey-dovey once the truth came out.

"Here we go, Mrs. Juice..." he grinned, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of a giant building that had a neon sign of a red, twisting rattle snake, with dice for eyes. Lydia looked down at herself, finding that she was wearing a bright red, sequined dress and, of course, stilhettos to match. It was loud, gaudy, and had Beetlejuice written all over it. He must have really liked those damned shoes.

"Snake Eyes, here we come!" Beetle exclaimed from beside her, taking her arm. He was dressed in a cruddy black suit and tie, and his wild hair had been slightly slicked back. Not enough to help the problem, but hey he tried. "So, uh, whaddaya think?" he turned to her, wanting her feedback.

Truthfully, it would have been a good time under different circumstances. Her eyes searched over the crowds of undead partygoers, noting that many were staring back at them. That wasn't unusual, given she was with Beetlejuice, and he was infamous in the Neitherworld. It was simply the fact that she wasn't sure why they were staring and gossiping amongst themselves. Just what had gotten out? Would anyone say something to him? Probably not, she figured, since most were afraid of him. Still, there was a chance, and that terrified her to the core. She swallowed hard, running terrible scenario after terrible scenario through her mind.

"Uh, Babe? Ya like it or not?" Beetle spat impatiently from beside her.

She had to shake it off, and fast if she didn't want him growing suspicious. She cleared her throat and plastered a big, fake smile on her red lips. "Good choice." she nodded. "I'm pleasantly surprised, BJ. You did good."

"Wait till we get inside. You ain't seen nothin' yet." he grinned proudly, while Lydia tried her best to appear normal. As he led her up the sidewalk and through the big, fancy, double doors, she warily glanced at various gawking patrons. As much as she wanted to feel happy, she couldn't shake that terrible sinking feeling inside.


	11. Regrets

Chapter 11: Regrets

Lydia stood in awe, gazing at the big, luxurious casino spread out before her. Classy jazz music filled the air and so did the scent of something akin to perfume and champagne. There were slot machines in droves, roulette tables, black jack, and anything else a person could think of. Ghosts filled the place, each celebrating and laughing amongst each other. The place was unlike any other that Beetle had taken her to. It was beautiful, swanky, and most importantly, it didn't smell like hot crotch. She could only figure that it was Beetles penchant for mischief that led her to his previous, less-than-desirable destinations. It was as if he were truly trying this time. It was too bad she'd more than likely doomed them both by now. Maybe things would have been alright, had she not been such an angsty nut case about the whole ordeal, she thought regretfully.

"BJ, it's beautiful..." she made sure to tell him, partly from the massive guilt forming inside of her. He did need to be aknowledged, she felt. He was trying, no matter how much he messed up continuously.

"Glad ya like it, Babe." he grinned, placing his hand on the small of her back, and not one bit lower. Geeze, he really was trying. He was behaving himself. Beetlejuice. Behaving. Now she was feeling worse than ever. "So, what'll it be?"

She inhaled deeply, hoping nothing would go awry. "Um...Those slot machines look really nice. How about those?"

"Good choice. I've won like a shit-ton of dough on those things." he cackled, leading her along.

She seated herself in front of a dazzling, colorful machine with a pull-handle. Beetle plopped down beside her, pulling a freakishly large bag of gold coins from his pocket, causing Lydia to smirk.

"After you, Dollface." he raised a brow, gesturing for her to grab the first coin.

This would have been a really great time, if she hadn't ruined things, she thought with much remorse. "Thanks." she forced herself to smile and take a coin.

Beetle grabbed a coin, popped it in, and pulled the handle, cackling like a madman. "Alright, Lady Luck, shake those tits at me!" Beetle exclaimed, rubbing his hands together greedily, as he watched the slots spin wildly. He then paused, turning back to Lydia. "Uh, just a figure a speech, Mrs. Juice." he corrected himself.

Lydia laughed at him, noting how that was almost endearing. "It's all good, BJ." she remarked, trying to enjoy the peace while she had it.

Then something happened. She somehow began to get her hopes up. Maybe she was just being too paranoid. Maybe Fran was the only person who'd heard her confession. Maybe she wouldn't tell, and just maybe nothing would happen. Perhaps Lydia could grow to trust Beetlejuice, and just maybe things wouldn't be as bad as she'd expected for once. Maybe.

Finally, she allowed herself to relax, if only but a moment. She wasn't particularly good at gambling like Beetlejuice was, but she was enjoying herself. The only problem she had during the night, wasn't exactly a problem. He wouldn't let her leave his sight. If she wanted to play black jack, there he was on her tail. If she wanted to watch the poker table, he was right along with her, trying his best to squeeze into the game and cheat (which he did many times over). Lydia figured it was actually helpful to have him within a three foot radius due to the fact that it seemed to keep the other ghosts away.

It was sometime later, however, after the two had meandered up to the bar that her troubles had begun.

Lydia seated herself, as a tall thin man with a top hat, mustache, and a sword through his side came to serve them.

"What will you two be having tonight?" the man asked, with a kind and professional tone. "May I suggest the house special. It's a wonderful drink for the price. Very strong. One glass will last you the night."

Before Lydia could so much as open her mouth, Beetle intervened. "Er...How's about somethin' a little _weaker._ Like, the weakest thing ya got. We'll take two of those." he said, clearing his throat and glancing toward Lydia's way.

"Yeah, that's probably a good call." she leaned in and told him. Lydia found herself quite pleased that he was behaving so well.

"Can't be too careful. Would'nt want some batshit crazy stuff to happen..." he muttered quietly to her.

When the bartender brought them two fizzy drinks in champagne glasses, she thought nothing of turning it up and taking a big gulp out of habit. And that very habit caused Beetle to gently grab her by the wrist and bring the glass right back to the table.

Lydia turned to him, seeing how serious he appeared. "Slowly, Babe."

"Oh, yeah. Right." she chuckled, feeling a little embarrassed that Beetlejuice of all people was chastising her drinking habits. In an attempt to keep things nice and easy, she tried to start a little conversation. "I've got to admit, you're pretty good at winning money. Aside from the cheating, that is."

"What cheatin'?" he asked, trying to be slick about his obvious trickery.

Lydia shot him a disbelieving look. "Sure." she grinned.

"The B-man doesn't cheat. He _improvises_." he corrected, sipping his fizzy drink.

"You do actually have a lot of cash, BJ. Like, how does that work? Do you just poof it out of thin air, or..." she asked, genuinely curious about how he always seemed to have money, whether he wanted to pay with it or not.

"Nah, Mrs. Juice, the B-man can do a lot of things, but he can't make money. The Neitherworld has all the rights to that shit. Impossible to make it appear at all. Believe me, I tried. That landed me six months right there. Fucking cops." he explained.

Lydia's brow scrunched in confusion. "Then how do you make money?"

"Can't go into the details, but lets say I gotta pension. I'm set fer life, Babe, and you are too, now that yer with me." he said, circling his finger around the top of the champagne glass.

"Pension? So..." Lydia continued, wanting to pull more information from him.

"Ah, I was a government worker. For a while, anyway, until I kinda broke free and did the freelance bio-exorcist gig." he grunted, seeming not too pleased with the memories of it all.

Lydia thought a moment, before asking, "Oh, what did you do?"

Beetle scowled. "Fucking civil servant, what else?"

"Oh." she paused, remembering just how civil servants were supposed to become civil servants. "BJ, did you kill yourself?" she asked in a whisper, her curiosity overtaking the fact that this really wasn't the place to be asking such dark questions.

"Huh? Fuck no!" he snapped at her, causing her to jump in her seat. Seeming to realize his mistake, he calmed down. "I know that's technically how that shit's supposed to work, but they lumped me in with those suicidal fuckers on a technicality."

"What's that?" Lydia asked, though he seemed to be growing more irritable with the topic. Quickly noting his change in demeanor, she tried to take a page from his book, and retract the question. "My bad, BJ. I probably shouldn't be prodding you with all those questions. You don't have to tell me all that. I just get curious sometimes. " she explained. It was the least she could do, given how he himself was trying for her.

He paused a moment, his green eyes searching her face. "Eh, I'll tell ya. Everybody's heard the story a thousand times anyway by now. I jumped off a cliff, fell in the river and drowned. But it weren't no suicide. I was runnin' from the law, and I thought I could make it. _Did not_ , obviously. Then shit got twisted, papers got mixed up, and they lumped me in with the suicides. _Fuckers._ Then, bam! Sentenced to life as a civil servant, working under that bag of wrinkles that you know as your lovely case worker."

"Wow. I had no idea..." Lydia leaned in, her chin resting on her fist, eager to hear more. "So how'd you get out of it?"

"Let's just say that the ole' B-man did a little research of his own. Hell, Neither World government shit is so inadequate, it ain't hard to find some loopholes here and there. Since they fucked me over, I bent them over and retuned the favor." he laughed darkly to himself. "Then I found a little 'extra paper work', and gained some kick-ass powers. I mean, I ended up cursed and all that shit, but I said what the hell. Minimal regrets." he shrugged.

So he acted like a stupid dick, but he was actually very intelligent. It certainly made sense to Lydia, and as fucked up as it was, it seemed kind of awesome to her that he was like that. "Why were you running from the law?" she continued, now too intrigued to hold back.

"Heh. Stole a fuckin' horse. After I stole a goat...some chickens...raided a wine cellar..." he faded off, seeming to contemplate those decisions.

"So, you were a thief?" she asked, wanting to know more.

"Not a thief, _the_ thief. Became quasi-famous in multiple towns in Europe. Earned the nickname 'Pigsticker LaRou'. That's what I became famous for."

Ew, that didn't sound good at all. "You had sex with a pig?" Lydia's face wrinkled in disgust and confusion.

"What? No, I didn't fuck a pig! Picksticker! I killed a pig. Stuck it in the face. With a pitchfork. " he exclaimed a bit too loudly, even doing the pitchfork-stabby motions with his arms. Lydia noticed a healthy dose of side-eye from the bartender as a result.

"Oh. Wait, why'd you do that again?" Lydia asked, completely confused.

"Cuz I was poor as shit, Babe! I didn't just stab some random pig in the face for the hell of it! Me an' my old man dragged it off and butchered its ass. We left the head though, with that pitchfork stuck in its face. Kinda glad I did, now that I think about it." he grinned. "Didn't fuck it, though. Fucked some pig-like women, but not the actual pig." he emphasized again, just to drive the point home that he hadn't had any inapproprate human-swine relations.

"So you lived with your father? What was he like?" she inquired.

"What is this, therapy?!" he finally snapped, clearly feeling weirded out by her barrage of questions.

"Okay, I'll stop. It's just sort of fascinating to picture you alive. I mean, you're from a completely different world. What has it been, like six hundred years or so?" she continued, after clearly stating the opposite.

"You callin' me old, Juice?" he huffed.

"It's just neat, that's all." she reiterated. "Not an insult."

"First time I heard that from someone. Okay, fine. My old man was a thief, too. We got along good until he stole my goat that I stole from the old man a few towns over. Stole the chick I was bangin' too, the old fucker. She was decent lookin' too. Had all her teeth, that one. Plague-free. Not bad to look at if ya ignored the big hairy mole on her neck. Kinda looked like New Jersey..." he wandered off, getting lost in his thoughts, which Lydia found to be quite amusing. He then caught himself actively thinking of another woman in front of her, and that was simply priceless. "Hehe...she didn't mean nothin' to me, I swear it." he chuckled nervously.

"Do I need to be worried?" Lydia teased, just to get a rise out of him.

"Hell, no!" he snorted, slapping the counter as he laughed. "I ain't never banged a pretty woman in mah life! You may think I'm full of shit, but I ain't fucked nothin' but ugly-ass skanks since I was born. HAHAHA!"

As ridiculous as the conversation was, it was amusing as hell. Lydia couldn't help but to be wrapped up in his crazy shenanigans, falling into laughter as well. She had to admit it, he was pretty damned entertaining.

"That's why I told ya it's a freakin' miracle that you slipped that ring on. I ain't never had a woman look half as good as you, and that would be pretty damned good. You, though. You're a whole 'nother level, Babe. I'm about afraid to touch ya, to be honest." he chuckled, though she felt some sincerety in his voice.

Feeling a little embarrassed over his outpouring of compliments, she redirected the conversation. "Well, I'm sure those women had some good qualities too." she stated.

"Heh, that's the thing. They were mean as hell, too!" he chortled. "I ran with a rough crowd. The women would cut yer dick off in a heartbeat. Kinda scary, now that I think about it...Who knew the old ball and chain would be the nice one?" he grinned, nudging her playfully with his elbow. "Ain't it usually the other way around or some shit? I dunno. This is the first time I've been married..." he mused. "And the last!" he added, somehow wanting to make sure that didn't come out weird.

Lydia shrugged, grinning right back. "Good to know I'm tolerable." she teased.

Beetle paused, a sly grin forming on his face. "Yer reeeaaal tolerable, Babe." he drawled, tapping his nails on the counter and giving her a look that made her a little uncomfortable.

"Okay, on that note, I'm gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be back, BJ." Lydia excused herself, partly because the drink had kicked in, and partly because he was staring a hole through her.

"Hurry back, Mrs. Juice." he said, his eyes not moving. Okay, it was a little creepy now. Even as she turned away, it was like they were burning a hole in her back.

As Lydia briskly made her way in and out of the restroom, she felt a tap on the shoulder. She turned to see two very familiar women.

A lady with a pole through her head, who was wearing an equally-gaudy dress to her own, grinned widely, smacking gum between her teeth. "Heya, sweetie. You out here with that bum?" she asked, cutting right to the chase.

"You mean BJ?" Lydia asked, trying not to imply that he was a bum, though they certainly had right to think so.

"Yeah, Mr.B!" a one-armed lady stepped up to her.

"Yeah, he's over at the bar. Why?" Lydia frowned, feeling taken aback by the surprise encounter.

"Is it true? Is he still holding you hostage?" the pole lady chimed in.

"No! Not at all." Lydia replied quickly, realizing that Beetle would probably come looking for her soon, which wouldn't help her case.

"You sure?" the one-armed gal narrowed her eyes. "You can tell us if he's doin' something he shouldn't be. He does that a lot ya know. Things he _shouldn't_ be doin'."

"What does that mean?" Lydia asked, now deeply concerned. Whatever it was, it had to be bad news.

"Okay, I'm gonna tell you this cause your a nice girl. Mr. B ain't no good, honey. Word around town is, he's under investigation." the pole lady chimed in again, seeming equally concerned.

"For what?" Lydia gasped, her eyes growing wide.

The one-armed woman looked around the room warily, before speaking. "Fraud. We heard he's faking bein' married to ya."

"Well, we're really married." Lydia stated bluntly, holding up her hand to show her ring. "It's binding."

"I know, sweetie. I don't know what he told you when he proposed, but we heard he had other plans." she continued.

The pole lady stepped back in at this point. "Yeah, there's a big chance that he's usin' you as a cover up. He was about to get caught jumping planes of existence, then he slapped a ring on your finger so the feds wouldn't think anything was up."

"And how do you know this is true?" Lydia countered, hoping to hear it was just some dumb rumor, even if it was mostly true, save for the ring part.

"Oh, we heard it from the police department. I'm bangin' one of the boys in uniform. Don't tell anybody that, though." the one-armed gal giggled.

"Oh." Lydia's heart dropped. So it really _was_ out in the open. "How long have they been investigating?"

"They've been lookin' into it ever since you all got married, due to _suspicious circumstances_ , but it sort of died down once Mr.B went to the clinker. But I heard they just found a new lead. Just watch out, dear. You ain't his type. Don't let him drag you down with him." Pole lady warned, before freezing in place as her eyes locked on a figure pacing toward them.

"The fuck are you hags doin' out here? Shouldn't you be standin' out on the street by a dumpster or somethin?" Beetlejuice stepped up, with a pissed look on his face.

"No, we're just talkin' to your pretty little wife!" the pole woman grinned mischievously. "Ain't she a little young for you?" she snickered, seeming to delight in provoking him.

"Ain't you got a limp dick to puff on?" he countered, his voice thick with spite.

"No, Mr.B. You ain't a client no more!" the one arm lady cackled, causing him to snarl.

Lydia felt a bit awkward, given that she knew he _had_ been an actual client of theirs, but that didn't stifle the worry she felt about his reaction. She hoped he wouldn't explode in a fit of rage because of an off-handed jab.

"A little fuckin' rude to say that in front of my wife, ain't it?" he growled, holding his hand out for Lydia, who was dumbfounded that he actually saw things that way.

"Don't worry about it, BJ. It's okay." she said, taking his hand and attempting to calm him down.

"Nah, it ain't." he spat, shaking his head. "Fuck you!" he hissed, flipping them both off.

"You already did. Several times! Remember?" the pole lady laughed hysterically, delighting in pissing him off.

"Alright. One more word and I'll rat your asses out to the cops!" Beetle yelled, pointing his finger at them.

"Okay, BJ. Let's go home." Lydia quickly tugged at his arm. This was going way too far.

"Go ahead and try, you gross bastard! It won't do you any good. I'm sleepin' with the sheriff's son. If anyone should be worried about cops right now, it's _you_ , asshole!" One-arm taunted, causing him to look really confused.

"The hell is that s'posed to mean?" he fumed, as Lydia tried to lead him away, though he wouldn't budge. This was escalating so quickly it was maddening.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough..." she said, as the two cackled, disappearing into the restroom to get away from him before he completely blew his top.

"I oughtta ring their scrawny little necks..." he growled, now pulling Lydia through the crowd behind him and out of the casino.

She followed behind him silently, feeling that burning hot sensation in the air around them. It was unnerving to say the least. It wasn't long until they were out under the night sky walking on the sidewalk away from the building. Lydia found it odd that he wasn't juicing them home or even talking for that matter.

He'd let go of her hand long ago, and since walking in stilettos wasn't very easy, she was falling behind. "BJ?"

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face her. Damn, he looked pissed. "What?"

"These shoes are killing me. Hold on." she muttered, waving her hand and changing them into a nice, comfy pair of sneakers and walking up to him. "Where are we going?"

"The fuck if I know." he shrugged, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. She didn't know if it was the bit about the cops or the antagonizing in general that got to him, but something did. "See why I follow ya everywhere? I leave yer ass alone for five minutes, and those fuckin' harpies start causin' trouble."

"Don't worry, BJ. I don't care what they say." she crossed her arms, feeling a little strange about the whole ordeal.

"Nah, you can't tell me that shit." he shook his head at her, his hands in his pockets. "I don't believe it."

"Well, it was kind of awkward." Lydia shrugged, not knowing what else to say. Sure, it was gross, but that was currently the least of her worries. She was now completely sure she'd screwed him over, so guilt had the upper-hand over everything at the moment.

" _Awkward?_ That all you got?" he wrinkled his face in confusion. "You gotta be kiddin' me..."

Lydia stared at her sneakers, feeling lower by the second. "If it means anything, I think it was thoughtful of you to stand up for me. You did good, BJ."

"Holy shit. Yer not even mad about all that, are ya?" he stepped up to her, placing his finger under her chin and pulling her head up to look at him. "And just what the fuck are ya doin' with me again?" he smirked, seeming a bit amused by her.

She wished she could share the same sentiment, but she was far too inside her own pit of despair. She knew it was only a matter of time before someone came knocking on their door, and she didn't think telling him would do any good. He could try and run away, but that wouldn't be too successful. It was nice to see Beetlejuice like this. He did have a good side, after all, even if she knew it probably wouldn't last when he found out the truth about her.

"I guess we belong together. Sort of." she faintly smiled, noting that his finger was slightly caressing her jawline.

"Pfft. No sort of about it." he blew, pulling his hand away and turning away from her. "Look, I don't like ya hearin' that shit. I'm kind of a nasty fucker, ya know. Or I was. Heh. Told ya I only banged ugly women." he snorted, grinning at her over his shoulder.

"We've all done things we're not proud of, right?" she stood away from him, eyeing his silhouette in the darkness, and thinking of her own massive mistake.

"Don't know." he shrugged. "But I'm pretty sure yer in the clear, Babe."

"No I'm not." she stated, wishing she could go back and change her mind about him so much earlier. He was changing right before her eyes, and despite what everyone was saying, the proof was right in front of her.

"Yeah, whatever." he snorted, clearly not believing her. "You ready to go home, Mrs. Juice?"

"Sure." she mumbled as the two of them vanished in thin air.


	12. The Unexpected

Chapter 12: The Unexpected

Lydia found herself standing outside the roadhouse, with Beetlejuice propped against the door frame. "Wonder what those biddies got on me..." he muttered, thinking out loud.

She shrugged, pretending to be clueless. "I don't know."

"Well, what did they tell ya?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in on her.

"They were asking me if you were still holding me hostage." Lydia answered, looking back to him and trying her best to play dumb to the real situation at hand.

"Figures." he snorted. "What'd ya tell em?"

"No, _obviously_." she rolled her eyes, hoping he'd leave things alone for just this once. If she knew telling him the truth would help him, she'd do it. The problem was, it was just too dangerous to tell him. Too dangerous for _her_.

"They tell ya anything else about me?" he continued his interrogation, causing her to fidget a little. If this continued, he'd cause her to slip up somehow, and the truth would be out, and she'd be in a world of hurt.

"What do you think they said about you?" she suddenly inquired defensively, turning the tables on him.

"Probably something about me bein' a disgusting asshole. They didn't say any, like, private shit did they? Like shit you don't wanna hear?"

"Nope. No more than they said when you were there. Actually, that's when they started saying it. I'm pretty sure they just wanted to piss you off." she admitted, omitting vital parts of the conversation that could be very damning.

"Yeah, those two always wanna piss me off." he said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with the end of his thumb.

Now it was Lydia's turn to grow curious again. "Why do they want to make you so mad, BJ?"

"I...Uh, may have accidentally forgot to pay the bill. On purpose. A bunch of times." he muttered, seeming a little like a scolded puppy.

"Why?" Lydia asked, genuinely curious as to why he would do that to someone. It was Beetlejuice, and he did sleazy crap all the time, but that was a really weird thing to shortchange someone on.

"Yeah, you don't wanna know that." he looked away, taking a long drag off his cigarette. " Don't think I'm s'posed to be talkin' about bangin' hookers with mah wife. Ya know, this is a really weird ass conversation we're havin' right about now."

"I think we've been having a lot of those lately." Lydia admitted, deciding to drop the subject, considering it probably really was something she didn't want to hear.

"Ain't that the fuckin' truth." he said flatly, flicking his smoke on the ground and opening the front door.

Upon entering, things were strangely quiet between the two, as if all the things they'd left unsaid were just hanging in the air between them. Beetle scratched his crusty head and disappeared into the kitchen to more than likely fetch himself a cold beer.

Lydia figured she'd just shut herself in her room, finally let out all her emotions, and cry herself to sleep. Yeah, that sounded about right. She sighed, heading off to do just that, when Beetle opened his mouth and called her back, like he was prone to do.

"Hey Lyds, come here. I gotta ask you somethin'." he said from the other room. Oh great, another question.

Lydia rolled her eyes, and turned around, dragging herself back to him. "Yeah?" she asked, poking her head into the kitchen, where he stood now in his ratty old house robe drinking a beer.

"So, how'd I do? Did ya have a decent time with my ass for once?" he asked. So that's all it was, she thought. That was a relief.

"Yes, actually. I had a great time." She smiled, and felt like she was being honest for once. He did show her a great time.

"Thought so." he grinned smugly, seeming proud of his accomplishment.

"Goodnight, BJ." Lydia said, turning away to go to her destination.

"Oh, uh, Babe." he began again, causing her to stop in her tracks and grow really irritated.

"Yes, BJ?" she asked, remaining calm for the sake of peace.

"I didn't pay 'em cause they laughed at my ass for not bein' able to get it up. So I told 'em to fuck off and I didn't pay. Lots of times." he admitted, scratching his filthy head and looking all kinds of awkward.

"And just why are you telling me this?" she grimaced, trying not to picture that disturbing imagery he was throwing her way.

He shrugged. "Felt like maybe you oughta know, in case they ever try to make up some shit. Hell, I couldn't help it. I was drunk most of the time, and they were fuckin' gross to look at _all_ of the time, so that kinda' made it hard to get a boner. Uh, no pun intended..."

Lydia could only gawk at him, feeling a mixture of awe, disgust, and something close to pity for the doofus. He really didn't have to tell her shit like that. She nodded, hoping to escape another insane conversation, when he opened his mouth yet again.

"And...uh, just so ya know. I'd never have that problem with _you_ , Babe. Drunk or not. Nothin' wrong down there." he said, pointing to his crotch, while Lydia tried her best not to even glance at it. "The little B-man can only take so much ugly, that's all. Didn't get my money's worth, didn't pay."

"Thanks, I guess?" she replied, feeling like she could shrivel up and die from cringing so hard. She quickly turned and took no more than a step away, until he started blabbering again.

"Babe." he spoke again.

"Okay, you got me. What do you want?" she stepped up to him and crossed her arms. God, she was already feeling so depressed and helpless, and he was being so weird and annoying right now.

"Ya know, if ya ever wanna try me out, I'll show ya a good time. Everything works down there, and I ain't go venereal diseases and shit. Got all that cleared up when I was in the tank, and been fuckin' _celibate_ ever since I got out, so there's no way in hell I got any more." he said, purposely placing emphasis on the celibate part.

"Are you offering me sex?" Lydia's face wrinkled.

"Well, yeah, but like ya don't have to. No pressure or anything." he snorted. "I mean, it's just that you're a super hot chick, I'm a stunningly handsome guy, I get lonely, and I'm sure _you_ get lonely..." he said, gesturing wildy between them and doing that stupid used car salesman pitch thing again. "Just sayin...the B-man can meet yer needs, if yaknowhaddimean..."

"Okay. Well, that is good to know." she spoke, slowly backing away to go escape and wallow in self pity a while. Unfortunately, for every step back, he took a step forward. He was completely impossible right now.

"And, maybe you could consider meetin' _his_ , cause the B-man gets a little lonely too. Just sayin'. I mean, I won't like go lookin' elsewhere for it or anything if ya don't. I got a hand and a dirty sock somewhere, but it would be nice to have a little, how ya say, _interaction_...Since we are technically married an' all that jazz." he continued, throwing his hands up defensively to show he wasn't going to spontaneously grope her or anything. Well, that was new - and disturbing.

"I will certainly take note of that then." she said, trying her best to get away from his weirdness where she could go sulk in peace. "Goodnight, BJ." she said.

"What? Is that _it?_ Don't I get anything? Not even a peck on the cheek or somethin'? Am I that damned gross?! Shit, I've been a good boy for ya!" he threw up his hands, seeming a bit hurt and offended.

Lydia grinned from his hopeless attempt at getting some form of affection from her. "Okay, how about a hug? Will that do?"

"Better than nothin'. " he grumbled.

It was a bit annoying, but it was sort of sweet too, in a crazy , deranged lunatic kind of way. She stepped up to him and put her arms around him. He pressed his hand against her back and pulled her closer. Unfortunately, she felt something a bit hard against her leg, causing her to jump back.

"What the hell?" she gasped.

"Fuck, it's my beer! My BEER! I'm not tryin' to rub my junk on ya!" he huffed, holding the offending object out and proving that it was, indeed, not a penis.

"Goodnight." Lydia finally slipped away, smirking at him in slight amusement.

Of course, her slight smile faded once she came into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She was just about to let her guard down and ball her eyes out, when a voice rang out, startling her.

"Mrs. Juice, I need you to come with me. ASAP!" she turned to see Juno in the corner of her room, cigarette dangling from her lips and a large stack of papers under her arm. "We've got no time to lose!"


	13. Deceit

Chapter 13: Deceit

Lydia sat across a paper-laden desk, smelling the heavy smoke in the air and watching Juno shuffle through a stack of papers with a deep scowl on her face. She sat quietly, bititng back the urge to run out the door screaming. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that this was probably something to do with her inability to keep her mouth shut, and that it would probably be terrible news. She inhaled deeply, waiting for Juno to actually speak and bracing herself for what was to come.

After what seemed like an eternity, Juno seemed to locate the file of choice from her stack, licking the end of her finger, and pulling it out. She wasted no time slamming the paper in front of Lydia and pointing to a line with an "X" beside it.

"Sign here." she demanded, her voice stern and urgent.

"W-what am I signing?" Lydia nearly whimpered, now truly feeling the weight of worry on her shoulders.

"Sign first. We have no time. This has to be done _now_!" she demanded, and Lydia nodded wildly, her fear driving her to follow Juno's instructions. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that even her case worker seemed rattled, and that was a terrible sign.

Lydia grabbed a pen off the table, signing her name with a shaky hand and sliding the paper back to Juno.

Before she could utter another word, Juno slid about ten more papers in front of her. "Now sign here, here, here, and here. Then initial here and we can begin the process." she ordered, pointing to various highlighted lines on certain pages.

Lydia quickly scribbled her name on each, feeling her heart sink each time she placed it on the papers. By the time she was finished, she felt as if it had fallen through the floor.

Juno quickly snatched the papers away, licking her finger and flicking through them all before lifting her eyes to meet Lydia's, glaring daggers at her and making her feel about three inches tall.

"In all my years, I've seen a lot of dipshits waltz through these doors and cause a lot of trouble. But never have I seen the such a shitstorm as the one you're about to unleash!" she spat, grabbing a lit cigarette out of her ashtray and shakily bringing it to her lips. "I never expected this from _you,_ Lydia Juice. Maybe that moronic husband of yours, but I expected better from you." she said, pointing her finger at Lydia and causing her to flinch.

"...What did I just sign?" was all she could bring herself to ask.

"An agreement that says you and I are going to testify against shit-for-brains in court. I'm gathering witnesses now. I have two that will support our claims. Possibly three, if I can get Gerald Lunder to agree." she explained, before taking a long drag of her cigarette.

Lydia thought she was going to faint, as she watched smoke writhe from the hole in Juno's throat. "Why am I doing that?"

"Because you, young lady, decided to go on a bender and let it be known that your union was a fraud! The sheriff's department received an anonymous tip for a possible hostage situation concerning you and Juice. The call was traced back to the Red Rum on West Fourth Street. The caller was female, and we they have reason to implicate that a Francine Maples was the source. YOU were there that night. YOU told! And as badly as it pains me to say this, if it weren't for Beetle jumping in and hauling your ass home, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be here right now!" she fumed, practically throwing the book at Lydia. "And you're damned lucky he didn't hear what you were saying about all of this! Who knows how bad things could've gotten?"

"No...no..." Lydia whimpered, biting her finger in overwhelming anxiety. This was exactly what she'd hoped wouldn't happen. Everything came crashing down in an instant.

"Oh yes!" Juno remarked, her unattended cigarette ashes falling to the table. "We're all damned lucky that this is Juice we are dealing with here. Any other criminal, and the cops would be at your door that very night. The feds know him all too well. They've been dealing with his ass for hundreds of years now. He's sneaky. They're waiting to gather all the evidence so they'll be no loophole he can use to get out this time. They're looking to put him away for a _long_ time. He'll be lucky if it's only a thousand years."

"Why am I testifying against him?" Lydia blurted out, feeling rather dazed and confused at this point. On top of all that, she began to feel insanely guilty. Here Beetle had been trying to be a better ghost, and she was about to throw him under the bus.

"Because we have a hand in this too. We were there when Juice tried to enter the realm of the living again. We LIED to cover up for him! You wanna go to jail for a thousand years?" Juno snapped.

"A thousand?!" Lydia yelped in disbelief. "BJ said I'd only get about twenty!" Just what was going on?

"HA! And you believed him?" Juno scoffed, showing disbelief of her own."Of course he'd tell you that! He's a con man, Mrs. Juice. He told you that in case word did get out. He wanted you to believe that so you'd feel guilty and take the fall."

"H-he wanted me to go to jail for a thousand years...?" Lydia whimpered, now feeling her eyes begin to well up with tears.

"Should your little fiasco be discovered, yes. It's basically the second worst punishment a ghost can have, save for exorcism. Once you go in solitary for that long, you're never the same when you come out." Juno answered in a slightly calmer tone, apparently picking up on the fact that Lydia was on the verge of tears. "And you're not the only one. I covered for both your asses. I know I'd get at least that much, if not more. I've been covering for his shit for years, just so I wouldn't have to deal with his ass any more than I have to. Should have known it would come back to bite me in the end..." she sighed, regretfully.

"So he's been lying to me this whole time..." Lydia muttered, her guilt now turning to hurt and heartache. Boy, had she been a fool. She'd actually believed a maniacal criminal was changing for her. A semi-normal person like Eugene wouldn't even change for her, so what made her so delusional to think that someone like Beetlejuice would be any different?

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Juice. He's a criminal to the bone. That's his nature. He's always been that way...Believe me." Juno added, seeming to feel her own disgust toward the situation, and rightfully so.

"He told me not to make him do bad shit. That's what he meant the whole time..." Lydia thought aloud, wiping a tear away from her face. "He was trying really hard to keep us from getting caught." Lydia explained, partly trying to hold on to what good she thought she'd seen in him. The reality was just too painful to think about at the moment.

"I'm sure it may seem heroic and noble to you that he tried so hard, but the truth is, that even if he didn't want to throw you under the bus, he still would have. Bottom line is, if it comes down to you or Beetle being put away that long, he'll choose himself over you every time. I don't think anyone can change that. Not even you, Lydia Juice." Juno stated somberly, the finality of her statement causing Lydia to feel completely lost and alone.

Lydia grew silent, staring at her hands, which were now shakily clasped together in her lap. All this time, she'd felt so sympathetic to him, compassionate, even. No wonder he didn't want her to apologize to him. She really didn't need to, because he was really just a selfish scumbag in the end. For once in a very, very long time Lydia no longer felt sorry for anything. Now she just felt mad as hell.

"So, what's our angle?" she spat coldly, wiping at her eyes, as Juno gave her a prompt nod, now that she had collected herself.

"We're going to emphasize the hostage situation, all the way back to the beginning. You and juice go way back, to when you were just a girl. He forced you into a bad situation, ultimately penalized you in the afterlife, and later held you hostage in order to help him jump back to the land of the living, and he coerced you into marriage to cover up for it when he thought he'd been found out." she explained, grabbing some more papers from a nearby stack.

"But he didn't force me into marriage." Lydia corrected.

" _Yes he did_ , Mrs. Juice. As far as the feds believe, he did, and that's what we're going with. They never fully bought my story about Beetle's mischief in the living realm again. They suspected he was trying to get out, and they were certainly right." Juno stated, laying down a stack of papers in front of Lydia.

"Okay. Got it." she agreed to it. If Beetlejuice was playing that dirty, then so would she.

"These are details of our procedures. I've already given your ex-fiance Eugene Havard and his wife Candy a copy. They were there on the night of his near-escape, and they think he's an asshole anyway, so they're willing to put him away. They'll be supporting the claim that he was, indeed trying to marry a breather that night." she explained, as Lydia frowned, hearing that her fiance had moved on to marriage that quickly with his mistress.

"Candy. So _that_ was her name..." Lydia grumbled, feeling even more rage.

"That's beside the fact, Mrs. Juice. I know you have a past with these two, but we all have to work together to put this moron away, or you and I are done for! Just be glad they are willing to help due to their mutual dislike for the bastard!" Juno warned.

Lydia nodded promptly, realizing Juno had a very good point. "So, what about Gerald?" she asked, feeling a bit guilty that he was about to be dragged into all of this, but also grateful that he may be willing to help.

"I'll be heading to his place as soon as we're finished here. He was with us that night, and he can help support our claims. I also know he's an aquaintance of yours, so he may work with us on the forced-marriage angle due to your relationship." Juno explained. "The trickiest part is where you and I come in, but I believe we can use emotional duress as an excuse for my ignorance to your marital situation."

"What do you mean?" Lydia's brow furrowed, wondering what Juno meant by all of that.

"There's a potential hole in our story. I was there when the cops came, under the impression that all of this was a mere noise ordinance and criminal mischief violation. I supported the claim that you two had already wed, with both your consent. That won't fly stacked against our new testimony." she added, standing and pacing about the room with her hands clasped behind her back. "So the only option would be duress. You lied to me about consenting to be his wife out of the fear of his retaliation. You understand where I'm going with all of this? You won't be held accountable if you were a hostage, forced to comply with Beetle's demands. That gets us both off the hook, and puts him completely at fault for all of this."

It all made sense now, and it was _perfect_ , considering everyone believed she was a hostage anyway. Besides, if he didn't care to put her away for a thousand years or more, why should she give a rat's ass about doing the same to him? "Okay. I'll do it. I'll say all of it." she stood, feeling a surge of powerful anger run through her veins. Even the air began to change, feeling heavy and full of electrical current. Juno looked to her warily.

"Easy with all that rage, Lydia. He can feel it too, if you project it strongly enough." she warned. "He'll know something's up."

"You mean that asshole can _feel_ my emotions?!" Lydia scowled. "He never told me that. Is that what all that crazy static has been all this time?"

"Yes it is, and he wouldn't tell you that. It gives you too much control." Juno answered. "Beetle may have some little feelings for you in his tar pit of a heart, but that won't keep him from making sure he can have the upper-hand. He doesn't want you to know how to read his emotions. You probably thought it was all you, didn't you?"

"Sort of." Lydia answered, rubbing her now aching forehead. "I didn't know what to think, to be honest."

"Yeah, he likes it that way..." Juno trailed off, more than likely rehashing bitter memories of her own."Okay, time's up, Mrs. Juice. I need you to look over these papers and report back here day after tomorrow. I'll round up all my clients and we'll go from there. In the meantime, I need you too look over all these details." she said, grabbing the papers off the table and shoving them in Lydia's hands. "I just need to report this shit and get it over with so I can get my name in the clear and we can all move on from this. Hopefully Juice will lose his mind in a thousand years like everyone else does and we won't have to deal with him again."

Oh, god that was right. She had to go back home and actually be around that psychotic criminal! "What am I gonna do? He can't find out we're doing this!" Lydia began to panic.

"Do anything you can! Don't fight fair. This is Beetle we're talking about. Under no circumstances are you to give him any indication of what we're doing. No pouting, no crying, and especially no electricity floating in the air! If you have to take off all your clothes and dance on the table naked to distract his ass, do it! This isn't a game, Lydia Juice. If he finds out, he will stop at nothing to bring us all down with him. He may seem like a dumbass, but it's all an act. I've seen it time after time, and it only gets worse. With consequences this large, there's no telling what he will do..." she warned again, stepping up to Lydia with a sobering look of fear on her own face.

Lydia swallowed hard, nodding in agreement and clutching her paperwork to her chest. Maybe she really _was_ a hostage, after all.


	14. Strange Behavior

Chapter 14: Strange Behavior

Lydia had passed out in her room in the early morning hours, her head resting on a stack of paperwork and drool. It was only the sound of Beetlejuice's grating voice booming on the other side of the door that caused her to jump straigth up, grab her spit-laced stack of legal papers and shove them in between her matresses.

"Hey, Mrs. Juice!" he yelled, banging loudly. "You awake in there? I got somethin' fer ya!"

"What?" she said with irritation, not happy with the literal rude awakening to go along with the figerative one she'd already had last night.

"Just come out, Babe!" he demanded, as she came out still in her long nightgown, wiping the sleep from her exhausted eyes.

"Okay, BJ. I'm out. What do you want?" she raised a brow, though she tried not to feel or act too irritable at the moment.

"I made ya breakfast!" he crooned, grabbing her by the arm and leading her into the kitchen, where she was led to a table with a full spread of scrambled eggs, bacon, waffles, the works. It would have been sweet if he wasn't secretly going to throw her in a high security prison for a thousand years as an escape plan. Yep, _real_ sweet.

It did smell pretty good, however. "Looks great!" she exclaimed, planting a big, fake smile on her lips. "How very thoughtful of you..." she spoke, trying her best not to make that sound like a smartassed remark due to her anger.

He paused a moment, glancing at her, most likely due to her tone. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Lydia laughed nervously. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't sound alright..." his eyes narrowed. Damn, she'd have to do better than that. More than likely, he was picking up on her bad mood, and that was proving to be nearly impossible for her to quell. How did one simply not feel something? She'd have to think fast. Her afterlife depended on it.

"It's fine, BJ." she blew him off, seating herself. "Aren't you going to join me?"

He gave her a leary glance, before seating himself. "I'll join ya." he agreed, dumping large piles of food on top of each other on his plate in the most disgusting manner possible. He then pulled a massive jar of dead cockroaches from his pants pocket and dumped them on top of the already repulsive mess. It was quite putrid.

Feeling her gag reflex kick in, Lydia quickly looked away, paying attention to her own food, which looked far less repugnant by comparison.

She'd just shoved a big spoon of eggs in her mouth, when the sounds of Beetlejuice crunching dead bugs between his teeth caused her to nearly choke on it. She forced herself to chew and swallow, only to see a massive cockroach crawl slowly by her plate. Her eyes grew wide as Beetle's hand came down and splatted the poor creature, pulling it toward himself and leaving a nasty green trail of bug guts smeared behind.

"Sorry, Babe. Had a live one in there." he grinned, before shoving the insect in his mouth with a very audible crunch.

Lydia stared at him in horror, slowly placing her spoon down. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah. Shoot." he shrugged, still chewing far too loudly for her liking.

"Do you have to eat like that?" she asked, trying not to focus too much on the antenna sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Pretty much. Part of the curse, Babe. Regular food don't taste no good to me no more. Just bugs. Told ya this bein' dead thing was creepy." he remarked, picking a dead roach out of some thick gravy and dropping it in his mouth afterword.

 _Serves the asshole right_ , Lydia thought in secret. "That sucks." she replied, keeping that thought to herself, however.

"Yeah, well, the B-man's used to it. It's gross as hell, though." he said, pausing mid-crunch. "Uh, you want me to eat in there?" he asked awkwardly, pointing his thumb toward the living room, apparently trying to be considerate. Once again, Lydia only felt more scorn deep inside. If he wanted to be considerate, he should have told her the truth in the first place, then maybe she wouldn't have felt compelled to vomit out their sham of a marriage to some stranger.

"No, you don't have to. I'll get used to it." she muttered, trying her best to sound normal and failing. It was just so hard to keep that level of emotion at bay when it was so damn loud and powerful inside of her.

"Why are ya so pissed off?" he blurted out, apparently sensing the strong emotions she couldn't hide. "Was it what I said last night?"

Caught off guard, Lydia paused a moment. That was it! If she couldn't stifle her anger, she could misdirect it. He'd never know the difference! "Well...I mean, it was kind of weird." she admitted, pretending to be far more bothered by his offer-slash-request for sex than she actually was.

"What the fuck is weird about it?" he remarked, seeming almost offended. This would be a great distraction. Juno said not to fight fair, and she was going to do just that. "We're married! Besides, I said no pressure! I wasn't bein' a dick about it!" he began to raise his voice. Yep, this would definitely work.

"Yeah, but we're still friends, BJ." she narrowed her eyes, redirecting the anger she felt into the potential argument at hand. "I feel like you may be trying to push me into being something else. What happened to my freedom in all of this?" she asked, purposely trying to provoke him.

"I ain't pushin' yer ass!" he spat, bug legs shooting out of his mouth. "You can do whatever the hell ya want, Juice! I was just bein' honest with ya!"

Now Lydia was _really_ pissed. That red, hot burning sensation returned to her skin. Sure, he made it a point to be honest about wanting sex, but not about something that could ruin her whole afterlife forever. _Real honest there_ , she thought ruefully to herself. "Are you sure that isn't all you want out of me?!" she stood up, realizing that maybe a small piece of her self truly wondered that.

"Fuck no! I already poured my heart out to ya! I ain't gonna sit here and stroke yer wounded ego just to get you to believe my ass! I told ya it ain't just that shit!" he yelled, jumping up to meet her and flinging his chair across the room.

"So why bring it up?!" Lydia gave him an accusing glare.

"Cause I'm a dude? Why the fuck do ya think?! My ass ain't got laid in over ten years, Lydia! I told ya you don't have to! Of course I'm gonna want it! Whaddaya think I am, some sort of dickless ghost?!" he fumed, flailing about wildly.

"You think after one night of buttering me up that I'll just sleep with you?" she scoffed, feeling fire in her veins. Maybe she could piss him off enough to leave, if only for a while. She did need him to be away just long enough to slip out and meet up with Juno again.

"NO! We were just gettin' along real good, Babe! I thought it wouldn't hurt ta ask! Forgive me for tryin' to be all nice about it. There really ain't no winnin' with yer ass, is there? You're fuckin' impossible!" he yelled, storming about the room and kicking another chair over in a fit of rage.

"Impossible?" she scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "I may be impossible, but at least I'm not _pathetic._ " she spat, lacing her last word with extra venom.

"STOP IT!" his voice boomed, causing the lights to flicker.

Before Lydia knew what hit her, she found herself thrown into a chair and strapped down with a hundred belts or more. Her eyes grew wide as she whimpered, struggling to get free. It was a sobering reality of just how fast and powerful he really was. She really had the worst judgment in all the planes of existence, and marrying him proved that. What would be a normal fight to any other couple, ended up with her strapped down like an _actual_ hostage. She could only whimper, trying to break free. Even her ghostly abilities wouldn't make her budge. He was too powerful.

He grew quiet and menacing as the room fell dark, which was even more unnerving, given it was morning outside. He stepped up to her, leering so close his forehead nearly touched her own. "Now, yer gonna calm the fuck down, and yer gonna do it now, Mrs. Juice. There ain't no need to go callin me shit like that. Kapeesh?" he growled, his saliva hitting her face and causing her to wince.

Lydia nodded fearfully, knowing she'd struck a nerve. Part of her felt satisfied to give him a little taste of his own medicine, yet the other part hoped she hadn't pushed him too far for her own sake. Either way, this was the distraction she needed to catch him off guard and hide the truth, and Juno did say by any means necessary.

He glared long and hard into her eyes, before backing away and pulling up a seat of his own, making her feel like she was truly being interrogated this time. "Ya think I don't know that shit already? I know I'm a ball bag, but I didn't tell ya to marry me. You did it all by yer little self. So I said to myself, okay, let's make the most of it..." he began. "I ain't been sleepin' around on yer ass, I've been tryin' to be a good boy like I'm yer fuckin' lapdog...Truth is, I don't think it's my problem anymore. You just ain't gonna trust me no matter what the fuck I do..."

What would normally evoke a bit of compassion and humility from Lydia, only bred more contempt inside of her. "Maybe I have good reason not to..." she seethed, her eyes shooting daggers at him. He could act like the victim all he wanted, but that was just it _\- an act_. She didn't know how he could play her so hard like that, to pretend she was something special to him, only to see her as disposable once things became too rough. At least if he would've come up with an escape plan involving both of them, then maybe she could have reconsidered. But he didn't, he simply lied to her to keep her complicit in case he ever needed an escape route. She had damned good reasons not to trust his ass, and it cut her deeply. Much to her embarrassment, her eyes began to blur from hot tears. She gritted her teeth, averting her eyes from him as a hot tear rolled down her left cheek.

The room fell silent again, as Lydia fought back the urge to weep uncontrollably. Damn her and her emotions!

"Ah, fuck..." she closed her eyes tightly as tears began to seep out. "Shit..." she cursed under her breath.

"No! Don't do that!" Beetlejuice's voice seemed to panic from the other side of the room. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" he fumbled about, knocking his chair back over to the floor. He ran up to her, snapping his fingers and causing all the restrictive straps to unclasp at once. "Don't cry!" he snapped, waving his hands hysterically.

"I'm trying not to!" Lydia snapped back, quickly wiping at her face and feeling humiliated. "I didn't want to in the first place, you moron!"

"Okay, okay..." he backed off, reverting back to scolded puppy mode. "Look, I lost mah temper, and I'm a dickhole, and you'll never hear another word outta me about doodlin' ya, okay? I'll punch myself in the dick if I have to!" he got down on his knees seeming to plead with her. Okay, that was completely unexpected. Why was he doing that?

"Uh..." she stared, completely baffled. Was this even real, or was he manipulating her again?

"Look, ya wanna be friends, I'll be friends. Don't worry about the marriage thing. We'll pretend and hope fer the best." he sighed, running his hand over his face. "Just don't run off on me or anything..."

That last remark was very telling, given the new information that Lydia had just learned from Juno. "Why?" she asked, gaining her bearings.

"Because we gotta stay together, Babe. We're stuck. No way outta this one." he reasoned. "It's gotta look like we're married no matter what we are. I guess I might a been pushin' a little. I figured if it was the real deal,we wouldn't have to go around pretendin' and shit all the time, ya know? I mean, it wouldn't be pretendin' fer me, anyway, Babe."

"And what's supposed to happen if someone finds out the truth?" Lydia asked, teetering dangerously too close to the truth. "You said bad shit. What bad shit? You never told me..." Okay, now she was just being careless. Regardless, a part of her just had to hear it from him.

Beetlejuice paused a moment, narrowing his eyes. "I guess I was bankin' on that NOT happenin'. " he admitted, shying away from the answer.

"...And if it does?" she egged on, steering the discussion right back.

"Then one of us is gettin' put away, Toots." he stated flatly, glaring at her.

"By one of us, you mean _me,_ don't you? You'd have me put away for all this?"

"Look, Babe. You ain't never been locked up. They'll go easy on ya, I swear!" he insisted, throwing his hands up. "What could be a slap on the wrist for you...Hell, it would be a permanent ass fuck fer me. It ain't like I want that shit ta happen! I didn't trap yer ass, remember? I was gonna marry a breather and let you go! Now, since we're all in this marriage of inconvenience and all, I figured maybe you an' me..." he said, gesturing wildly between the two of them. "Maybe we could make it work, ya know? Cuz I knew if it didn't, one of us would fuck up eventually, and it would probably be _you_ , given you ain't real good at lyin' and shit like I am."

"No kidding..." Lydia remarked, under her breath. Yeah, he was really good at lying alright, and he was still lying to her.

He glared at her for that remark before continuing. "So, yeah, I pushed for it. But, hey you got yer point across loud an' clear, Babe. You don't wanna be Mrs. Juice, you don't gotta be. I'll let this shit go, cause it ain't worth it. I'll push ya too far, and you'll run away and shit like I've seen ya do before. Then it's only a matter a time before the feds come knockin' at mah door. And I can't get away from those fuckers, they've been on to me too long."

"Fine." she agreed, knowing that it was all going to end for him pretty soon anyway. "So what do we do now?"

"You'll be Mrs. Juice outside of these walls only. As far as I'm concerned, you're Lydia-Fuckin-Deetz in here. If it keeps things from fallin' apart, then I ain't got no choice in the matter. I won't follow ya around or do any of that shit. Just keep us in the clear, Babe. You ain't gotta answer to my ass no more, but just be warned," he paused, his voice growing dark and menacing, "I ain't gotta answer to yours either. Whaddaya say? Is it a truce, Lydia Deetz?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Lydia inhaled deeply, pushing back any feelings she still held for him, both rage and anything else she was holding onto. She choked down her pain, and simply tried to let it go. It was far too late, and she knew far too much about him. She had a mission to accomplish, and that was saving her from the very fate that he was lying to her about. As far as she was concerned, she'd just placed herself firmly on the right track to get herself out of this mess. This new agreement would equal a newfound freedom that would allow her to get him locked away before he could return the favor.

"It's a truce, BJ." she replied, grabbing his hand and shaking it firmly, noting that it no longer carried that spark of electric between them. "Friends?" she asked, raising a brow. Lydia had to make things seem believable, so she extended the olive branch that she normally would.

"Compadres, Deetz." he grinned, though she couldn't help but be disturbed by that feral gleam that was now forming in his eye again.


	15. Consequences

Chapter 15: Consequences

Lydia briskly walked down the street, smiling as the orange haze of daylight hit her skin and the wind blew through her hair. Boy, did it feel great to have a little freedom again! It felt even better to announce to her sort-of-husband now demoted to roommate that she felt like going out for some fresh air. She derived much pleasure from watching him glare a hole through her as she shut the door in his face. If he didn't like things now, he sure as hell wouldn't like things when he was getting busted for all of his crimes.

Something about his pain almost made her feel light and airy, and that was something new to her. It was good to see him squirm for once, to see him feel trapped with no way out. Maybe he would see just how he'd made her feel with all his mischief and lies. Lydia made her way to the park that she used to visit daily when Beetlejuice was still locked away and the afterlife was much simpler. She sat on a park bench, watching the other undead citizens stroll along or talk amongst each other.

She smiled, thinking of how there was only one day standing between herself and the path to her freedom. A thousand or more years without Beetlejuice would have sounded awful, dull, and meaningless before, but since Juno had told her the cold, hard truth, it simply felt like a big, gross, pervy weight would be lifted from her shoulders.

Yes, it stung. Of course, it hurt like hell, but it was the truth. Unlike Beetlejuice, she didn't want to live her afterlife based on falsehoods. Maybe it was actually a blessing in disguise that she had blurted out the truth and landed herself in such a position. Who knows what Beetle could have done to her in the long run? She figured she should consider herself lucky to find these things out now instead of later.

* * *

Night had fallen upon the land, and Lydia found herself back home, sitting on the front steps and gazing at the foggy night sky. She'd had a peaceful day strolling to various boutiques and stopping at a restaurant for a pleasant bite to eat. "Maybe I really am a hostage..." she whispered to herself, realizing that with Beetlejuice around, she never really had the chance to do those simple things she loved. Even if it hadn't been an actual hostage situation, his crazy possessiveness had actually come pretty close to it. Even the possessiveness wasn't truly what she thought it was. Until recently, she'd considered it almost sweet that he wanted her around so much, until she found out that it was mainly due to the fear that she'd slip up and expose them.

Hot tears began to fill her eyes again, thinking of just how much she felt for him at one time. Had he ever really, truly loved her as much as he claimed? Maybe it was all one big facade. It hurt to feel so alone. Why couldn't Beetlejuice have been honest like Gerald?

"Gerald..." she said his name out loud, considering the possibility of dropping in on him, since she didn't quite feel up to being around Beetlejuice just yet. It wasn't like she had anything better to do, and being in her current state of mind, she couldn't bring herself to visit Winter Rivers and expose her family to this mess. At least Gerald knew what was going on, and she did miss him, after all.

* * *

Lydia materialized in Gerald's study, surprised to find that he wasn't there. "Gerald?" she called for him, opening the door to find him asleep on his sofa with Juno's documents in his hand.

"Gerald?" she stepped up to him, startling him from his sleep so much that he nearly fell off the couch.

"Oh! Lydia! It's you!" he exclaimed, sitting up and gaining his stability. He seemed happy to see her until he paused and began to scan about the room warily. "He's not with you this time, is he?" he whispered faintly.

"No. And he won't be anymore after tomorrow." she smiled.

"Good." Gerald sighed with relief, dabbing his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. "Can I be frank with you for a moment, since he's not here?" he asked.

"Sure. What is it?" Lydia agreed, curious to what he had to say.

"I'm relieved that you're getting away from him, Lydia. He's not a good fellow." Gerald admitted. "I've never liked him. I merely tolerated him for your sake."

"I can see why." Lydia nodded. "I'm just sorry you're having to deal with my mess too."

"Don't be sorry, Lydia. I'll gladly help you all put him away. Any man that would throw his own wife into prison is a man that needs to be there himself." Gerald stated, his face showing traces of disgust. "Juno has already given me the information I need to report, and I told her I'd gladly take your side."

Lydia stepped over and sat down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good friend, Gerald. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you."

"Your friendship is enough, Lydia. You've never had to pay an old fat man like me the time of day, but you do. You're a good person, and that pompous oaf is too terrible to appreciate it. Once you're rid of him, you'll find someone who will treat you as you deserve." he insured, giving her a good dose of fatherly advice that felt so good to hear.

"Thanks, Gerald. I needed that..." she smiled, wiping at the tears forming in her eyes again. "Ha...I'm doing that a lot lately." she chuckled, feeling embarrassed that the water works were starting again.

"Do it as much as you need to, Lydia. Anyone would feel that way in your place." he said, comfortingly.

"It's just...I really thought that he cared, ya know? I thought he was changing. We can't be together. We can't even be friends anymore. It's over." she sniffled, materializing a kleenex in her hand to blow her nose on.

Gerald nodded. "It will get worse before it gets better, but it _will_ get better." he assured her. "I do know that they are preparing his warrant as we speak. I believe that tomorrow the police will have all the evidence they need to get him. It will be over soon, Lydia. Then none of us will have to deal with that buffoon again."

"Yeah. You're right. I'm glad I have you on my side." she smiled, feeling thankful for him.

"Lydia, everyone is on your side. He doesn't stand a chance against someone like you. Powers or not." he remarked.

"You really believe that?" Lydia asked, shocked by his words.

"I know it. Sometimes when one is on the inside of the situation, they don't see what everyone else sees. Everyone seems to realize that he shouldn't be with you. Even if you did place that ring on your finger, he pushed you to that point. I'm not so sure you _weren't_ under duress the whole time." he admitted, and it made perfect sense.

"Yeah. You have a point." she nodded in agreement, before realizing just how late it probably was. She stood up, stretching her arms. "I guess it is getting late. I'd better get back so I don't make him too suspicious." she said, as Gerald nodded in agreement.

"Then I shall see you when we're summoned tomorrow." Gerald smiled.

"See you then." she smiled, feeling somehow more hopeful as she vanished in to a purple fog.

* * *

Lydia reappeared in front of the Roadhouse, taking in a deep breath and casually strolling in through the front door. She noticed that Beetlejuice was sitting on his sofa, taking a drag off a cigar while some naked girl dance around on the T.V. screen. She rolled her eyes as she walked by him, noting how he paid her very little mind.

She stepped into the bathroom, wincing as she saw the toilet seat up again. She shook her head, as she closed the door behind her and stepped over to the mirror where she gazed over her red, puffy-eyed reflection. She turned on the cold water in the sink, splashing some on her face to alleviate the problem.

When she finished, she went to her bedroom, gently closing the door behind her and locking it. She looked about the room warily, before walking over to her bed. She needed to look over Juno's papers again before tomorrow rolled around. Lydia knelt down beside the bed and quietly slid her hand between the matresses.

"What?" she mumbled to herself, feeling nothing there. Her eyes grew wide as she began to move her arm about frantically, searching for the precious documents. "Oh, god..." she shoved her other arm in, only to find nothing. "Where did I put it?" she gasped, flipping her mattress up on its side, only to find it bare.

She began wildly pulling the drawers open on her dresser and nightstand, flinging objects across the room. She yanked up the rug, picked up lamps, boxes, and anything she could think of. Then the thought crossed her mind. _What if she'd left them in another room by mistake?_ She couldn't remember, due to the fact that her emotions had been all over the place in the last twenty-four hours or so.

"Shit!" she hissed, clammering to her bedroom door and flinging it open.

Lydia stood with her eyes wide as saucers and her jaw nearly dropping to the floor.

Beetlejuice stood in front of her with a malicious smile etched across his face. In his hand was the damning evidence that she so desperately needed. He chuckled, his voice laced with venom and malice. "Lookin for _these_?"


	16. How the Tables Turn

Chapter 16: How the Tables Turn

"Care to explain yerself, Mrs. Juice?" he asked calmly - a little _too_ calmly, while he shook the damning evidence in his hand.

"Uhmm..." Lydia swallowed, backing away from him.

He began closing in on her. "No? What's wrong, Babe? Cat got yer tongue?" he cackled, as that terrible electricity began to fill the air again. This time it was hot and suffocating, and it felt as if it was closing in on her.

"Ah!" she yelped as the ring on her finger grew as hot as fire. She pulled and tugged at it, but it only burned her more. "Ah! Please! Stop it!"

"Ah, ah, ah! Only if ya tell me what the fuck yer doin this shit for!" he shouted, waving the papers in her face.

"Fine! I'll tell you! Please! Just stop it!" she screamed, her hand writhing in pain.

He snapped his finger, and the ring cooled down in an instant. "Talk." he spat, furious as ever.

"The truth is out...I told." she gasped, holding her stinging hand. "That night I got drunk at the bar...It was an accident, but I told someone..."

"Oh, I know ya did, dearie. You ain't been actin' right fer a while now." he said as he began to circle her. "All that nervous shit you've been doin'. The outbursts, the flip-floppin' on me, tryin' to throw me off...Did ya think I wouldn't figure it out? You really think I'd lay down like a little bitch and let you do whatever you wanted? You must think I'm fuckin' stupid! I told ya, Dollface. You're stuck with me till death do us part! FOREVER! HAHAHAHAH!" he cackled maniacally, as the papers in his hand began to ignite. They suddenly burst into flames, falling to ashes at her feet.

"You asshole!" Lydia began to feel those stupid hot tears fill her eyes again. "Juno told me what you had planned for me! You were going to let them put me in prison for a thousand years! You lied to me, you bastard!" she screamed, her own powers dimming the lights this time. "I thought you loved me!"

"Love ain't got nothin' to do with this, Mrs. Juice..." he replied coldly. "We're talkin' about afterlife or death for me, kid."

"And what about me?! You think I'd come out of that okay? Juno told me what happens to the ghosts that wind up in solitary for that long! She said it's the closest thing to an exorcism there is! Would you really put me through that?!"

"Look, if you'da kept that big fuckin' mouth of yers shut, neither one of our asses would have to worry about this shit! I was just fine with bein' Mr. Juice forever. YOU were the one who didn't know what the fuck you wanted! This is all on YOU, Mrs.-Fuckin'-Juice! Not ME!" he roared furiously, this time bursting every light in the house and leaving them in complete and total darkness.

"So what are you saying, BJ?" her voice quivered in the pitch black of night. "You didn't have a back up plan, so you were going to let them torture me instead?"

"Doin' it fer real WAS the back up plan, Juice. We'd be ay- okay if you hadn't exposed our asses! And now you wanna testify and lie against me? It's _your_ fault, Peaches! Besides, they'll do more to me than they ever will to you. I guaran-fuckin-tee it! Better for you to come back a nutcase in a thousand years than for me not to come back at all!" he growled, his shadow moving in on her in the darkness. "Now you listen to me, Mrs. Juice. I'm givin' ya one last chance, cause I don't wanna do it to ya. Yer gonna march into wrinkle-bag's little office tomorrow and your going to recant yer little statement, or I'll do it for ya."

"What?! What good is that going to do?" Lydia huffed. "They already know it's a sham. It won't help."

"Correction. It won't help unless one of us is the bad guy, and it AIN'T gonna be me this time!" he snarled. "Yer gonna do it, or you'll wish you had."

"So that's it, huh? You're just going to put me away." Lydia began to choke on her own words. "You don't give a shit about me, do you?"

"I told ya, that ain't got nothin' to do with it! You want me dead?!" he screamed. "Cause that's what's gonna happen! Yer gonna kill my ass over a little jail time!"

"It's a thousand years, you bastard!" Lydia snapped. "Besides, you've lied to me one too many times. How the hell am I supposed to believe you now?"

"Don't force me to do it." he warned again, his voice low and menacing in the night, causing her skin to prickle. Something in the back of her mind shifted, telling her to go along with it, if only for a moment. That same hunch told her that it may be much worse if she refused.

A long, deathly silence filled the gap between them, before Lydia replied. "Fine, BJ. You win. I'll turn myself in."

"You serious?" he asked, sounding wary of her.

"I don't have a choice. You said so yourself." she replied.

"Good. Glad you could see things my way, Mrs. Juice." he said as he snapped his finger in the dark, fixing all the lights.

Lydia squinted, shielding her eyes from the burst of light. "Okay. What now?" she asked.

"Yer goin' to bed." he grinned, pointing his finger at her and cocking his thumb like a trigger. Lydia yipped, and when the fog cleared from her vision, she suddenly finding herself laying on her bed, with large chains pinning her down tightly.

Beetlejuice appeared in a chair in the corner. "Yep, one can never be too careful." he chuckled. "You just have yerself a good little nap, and we'll be all ready by tomorrow. You do have a big day ahead of you, after all!"


	17. Self Actualization

Chapter 17: Self Actualization

Lydia laid in the dark, staring blankly at the ceiling and wondering just how she'd let herself fall into such a trap. Unfortunately, if there was one thing she did fault herself for, it was being too unsure of herself. Of course, she had right to not trust Beetlejuice, when everyone around had rightfully told her she shouldn't. She didn't fault herself for that. What she blamed herself for, was being so afraid all of the time. It made her wishy-washy and easy to take advantage of. No wonder Beetle had reprimanded her so much for apologizing constantly. She wasn't really just apologizing for things she felt that she did wrong. She was apologizing for simply being who she was, and she didn't have a lot of faith in that. He was right when he said she was with a bad guy like him because of her overly-apologetic nature. She should've trusted herself enough to either stay or go, not avoid the whole thing altogether. Lydia had avoided it all because she had been afraid, and she had been afraid because she didn't think she could survive the rejection, should something go awry later on. She didn't think she had what it took to be alone.

She breathed in through her nose deeply and slowly turned her gaze to Beetle, who was currently humming to himself with a cigar dangling from his lip. He was also eyeing the centerfold in a nudie magazine, probably just to spite her, she figured.

"Could you not do that?" Lydia remarked. The last thing she needed to see right now was him perving it up while she was his captive.

"Uh, could you not open your mouth and make noises?" Beetlejuice glared at her over the top of his dirty book.

Lydia sighed, turning back to the blank space on the ceiling, which was currently the more appealing option at the moment. What had she believed? Did she really feel that he was changing for her? The answer, unfortunately, was yes, and she didn't trust it. Her gut had told her the opposite of what everyone else had warned her against. It always had. No one would have wanted her to find Beetlejuice and insert herself back into his life, but she did. Her family certainly wouldn't have approved. If she had told everyone that there was good inside of him, they would have checked her into an asylum. But, once again, that was what she truly believed then. And even now, after her fits of rage and border-line hatred of the moron, she found herself wondering if he still had any good left. That was why she never trusted herself. She'd seen things others didn't in life, and it seemed to carry over into death as well. It made her strange and unusual, and she never liked that about herself. She didn't fit in, didn't belong, and often found herself alone. Even when the angsty goth-phase had come and gone, she was still left with her strange, often different way of seeing things. That was why she never trusted it before, and really never liked or trusted herself. Why rely on something so contradicting to the world around her?

Regardless, a strange feeling began to bubble inside of her soul. It seemed as if she'd finally admitted to herself that perhaps she had been right all along. Maybe everyone else was wrong. She'd seen the dead, because she could aknowledge what others did not. Though others didn't believe her, she had been right all along. She had seen through Eugene long before he'd left her at the altar, and though she tried to deny it, she had been very right then as well. Finally, she had seen the good inside of a psychotic bio exorcist-slash-con man, and despite the situation, that hadn't seemed to be all fakery.

For the first time in her life and death, Lydia began to feel a little less unsure, and a lot less fearful. The time when she should probably be terrified the most was the time that she somehow began to believe in herself. Just a little. At least, just enough to see if she was correct.

"BJ?" she grabbed his attention, causing him to lower his magazine just enough to glare over it.

"What?" he griped.

"I know it doesn't matter now, but were you serious about all that marriage stuff? Or was it just a way to keep me quiet?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't stonewall her out of spite.

"The fuck does it matter now?!" he spat, tossing the offending magazine to the side.

"I guess if I'm going away for that long, I'd like to know the truth before I get locked up and driven mad." she stated.

He pulled the cigar from his lips and blew out a slow stream of smoke. "Yeah, but it ain't gettin' you outta this. You had yer chance. Ya blew it, kid. Fer both of us." he answered, his voice thick with resentment.

"So I was right the whole time..." Lydia shook her head.

"What's that s'posed ta mean?" he grumbled, leaning forward and flicking his ashes into Lydia's carpet.

Lydia began to laugh faintly, feeling the irony of it all. "All this time everyone was trying to talk me out of believing in you, and I listened to them. Turns out, I was right all along."

The room grew silent again, and Lydia briefly glanced his way. He was staring at the floor, as he pulled his cigar back up to his lips and inhaled deeply. "Yeah..." he replied, in a puff of smoke. "I told ya that wishy-washy apologetic shit would come back and bite ya on the ass..."

She _was_ right, and even if she had nothing else left, she had that. It was at that very moment that another idea had donned on her. "When I go away...to prison...are we still technically married when I get out?" she asked, curiously.

Hearing her inquiry made his face twist up in confusion. "Why you askin' that?"

"Just curious. You said we're bound forever, didn't you? When I get out and I'm all mental and deranged, are you going to come back? Or...?"

Beetle stood up, grimacing. "You mean to tell me that I've got yer ass strapped to a bed so I can send ya to prison fer a thousand freakin' years, and yer askin' ME if I'll come back and get yer ass? Am I hearin' this shit clear?!" he waved his arms about, clearly freaking out.

"Well? Are we?" she pressed on.

"Are we WHAT?!" he threw his hands up, still spazzing out.

"Still married!" she reiterated loudly.

"Well, yeah, but..." he winced, looking completely weirded out.

"So will you come back for me?" she asked again.

Now he looked confused as ever. "You sayin' ya want me to?"

"Do _you_ want to?" she asked, trying to make the best pouty face she could muster. "I mean, if you don't I could understand, cause I'll probably be all weird and catatonic or something...for a while, anyway..." she said with much sorrow, hoping to guilt him into answering. The room fell quiet again, and Beetle stood there a while, dumbfounded.

Finally, he spoke again. "Eh, what the hell?" he shrugged. "The bond's already sealed and shit anyway. We're kinda permanently married...I guess I could make room in a corner or somethin' to prop yer ass up in...Probably be standin' there a while..." he muttered scratching the back of his head.

"Thanks, BJ. I'd do the same for you. I mean it." she smiled up at him.

"Eck! Don't start that nice shit now! For god's sake, I got ya chained up so I can haul yer ass to jail, fer cryin' out loud! Act like a normal person and stay pissed off for once!" he bellowed, grabbing his head in sheer frustration. "Fuck...I gotta go piss..." he sighed, shaking his head at her. "Stay there and don't fuckin' move!" he fumed, even though it was kind of impossible for her _not_ to do that.

As soon as he left the room, Lydia smirked to herself. "And I _will_ do the same for you..." she said in a hushed tone, as she closed her eyes and concentrated with all of her might. A vision of the nearest police department entered her mind. Knowing Beetle's special brand of power was too potent to allow her to travel there, she instead narrowed her vision on a nearby desk, and on that desk was a phone, and a cop sitting behind it. Lydia inhaled deeply, and focused even harder, as that phone began to ring loudly.


	18. Power Play

Chapter 18: Power Play

Beetlejuice stood in front of the bathroom mirror, eyeing his crusty face. "The fuck is wrong with her?" he muttered to himself, wondering how someone could be that damned crazy. Maybe going in the clink for a thousand years wouldn't change her much, based on the fact that she was pretty much off the deep-end anyway.

Regardless, he needed some space put between them and he needed it pronto. He couldn't risk her working her weird, mushy charms on him in any way. Hell, it wasn't like he wanted to pick her up and throw her in a little box and slam the door shut, it just happened that way. In fact, she made it happen that way, therefore she could deal with that shit due to the fact that he couldn't afford to.

He lit up another smoke to calm his frayed nerves, before sneaking into the hallway and leaning against a wall. _Would have been nice if things had worked out_ , he thought. Of course, shit didn't because the whole freakin' Neitherworld hated his ass and pushed her away from him. _Assholes._ Based on that very notion, they were practically doomed from the get-go.

"Gonna be a looong ten centuries, Juice..." he sighed, not knowing how he was going to do anything without her. He could go to a bunch of strip clubs, but strippers really didn't do shit for him anymore. A thousand years was a long time to be celibate, but he knew he would stay that way like the neutered dog that she'd turned him into. Gambling wasn't that fun by himself, either. Hell, his old life before her was just a distraction from the fact that he was a pathetic, lonely old asshole to begin with. The truth was, his life and death before Lydia came along paled in comparison to what he felt after she was in it, and that sucked ass cause he was going to double-cross her.

He was almost about to get caught up in a massive swell of guilt, until he heard a faint, high-pitched noise in the distance. His eyes narrowed, as he stepped up to his front door. "What the..." he grumbled, hearing it grow louder as it approached. The hair on his body began to stand on end, much like the hair on his head, when he poked his head out the door and noticed about a dozen squad cars approaching.

His eyes grew wide and wild. "Lydia, you little lyin'..." He'd been tricked! This whole nicey-nice shit thing was an act to make him drop his guard. "FUCK!" he screamed, before darting toward his bedroom at the sound of car doors slamming shut and footsteps beginning to surround the house. He had to leave now. He'd worry about strangling her ass later.

"MR. JUICE, OPEN UP. THIS IS THE NPD. WE HAVE A WARRANT FOR YOUR ARREST." a super-loud megaphone boomed from outside.

He knew their powers would keep him from warping, so he stood on his bed and peeked hurriedly out the back window. _Good_ , he thought. They hadn't made it to the back of the Roadhouse just yet. He quickly threw the window open and began to scramble out.

"IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY WITH US, WE WILL PROCEED TO FIRE THE NET. 3...2..."

"Oh, shit! Shit! Shit! Not the net! Not the NET!" he whimpered to himself, as he dropped on his ass, scrambling to get up and escape that big, green, glowing bastard they were fixing to shoot over the house. He'd dealt with the net before when he violated probation once. It was not pleasant.

"1...FIRE!"

"EEEK!" he shrieked, sounding not unlike a squealing old lady, as he gained his footing, just before a big net blazed across the sky, spreading out and covering the top of the roadhouse. It came down so quickly that it scraped the back of his shoe, sparking and knocking him about fifty feet back until he hit a tree and landed with a thud on the ground.

He laid there, stunned for a moment, before he staggered up, trying to squint really hard and focus his blurry vision. More squad cars came barreling in, and the house became engulfed in a storm of police lights and wailing sirens. "FUCK!" he hissed, limping and trying his best to vanish. Unfortunately, the net had temporarily stunned his powers, so he had no choice but to do just that.

Luckily, the cops were busy raiding his house and likely using their special ops shit to break Lydia's chains, so he high-tailed his ass as far as he could.

* * *

A faint trace of light was raising in the horizon, as Beetlejuice panted heavily, leaning against a tree and watching the Roadhouse from high atop a mountain. The cops were still patrolling the area, while that big, scary-ass net had been retracted and replaced with caution tape.

"Ack!" he winced, sliding his back down the tree and sitting on the ground. His undead body was throbbing from his head to his toes. He was completely drained, and even if it was temporary, it still hurt like a bitch. He was so weak, he couldn't even juice himself a bottle of booze to ease the pain.

"That fuckin' woman's gonna be the death of me..." he winced, gasping to himself in pain. "That's okay, Mrs. Juice..." he tried to laugh, but ended up coughing violently. "You just wait till I get mah powers back..." he groaned, closing his eyes and finally blacking out from exhaustion.

* * *

Night had fallen back over the Neitherworld, where Beetle laid on his back in the woods, opening his eyes to a dark, hazy sky. "Ugh..." he moaned, rubbing his forehead and trying his best to sit up without screaming bloody murder.

He turned back to the overlook, where a couple of cop cars were parked silently, blue and red lights still flashing in the distance around the Roadhouse. "Shit, that was close..." he breathed a ragged sigh of relief, trying his best to juice himself a bottle of whiskey and a smoke. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, noticing a small spark or two forming between them. "Hehehe..." Good. It was only a matter of minutes now. When it came to the cops' methods of capturing a fugitive, well, Beetle had become quite familiar with just about all of them. He could practically count the minutes until his powers returned.

While he was waiting, he reasoned he may as well figure out where to run to. Unfortunately, since his dearly beloved had ratted him out to the cops prematurely, there was no way to turn shit around. The only option he had left was to run from the law.

"Fuckin' little hag!" he seethed, picking up a rock and throwing it as hard as he possibly could. If Lydia didn't know what she was getting herself into when she exposed their phony marriage, she had no idea what fresh hell she was releasing when she called the cops.

"Where to go, where to go..." he pondered out loud, scratching the stubble on his moldy chin. He needed somewhere out of sight, and way the fuck under the radar. He ran various places over in his mind, running various outcomes, and none of them proved to be any good.

"SHIT!" he cursed loudly, his rage causing him to stand up and pace about, despite his pain. "Come on, B-man, pull it together!" he began to panic, when he came up short for answers. Then, his panic promptly turned to rage, cause he wasn't good with panic and fear and all that bullshit.

If he'd currently had access to his powers, he'd use his mind to call Lydia Juice every bad word imaginable, then try to telepathically strangle her to death! This was all her fault, anyhow! If it weren't for her and those stupid-assed Maitlands using him as sandworm bait, he would have never went back to the tank, he would have never wandered into her ass again, and he never would have allowed the little twit to fuck him over now! "YEEAAHHHHHHH!" he screamed in a fit of rage, feeling the static flow back into the air around him.

"Wait a minute..." he stopped his momentary tirade, as the answer came to him like a mirage in the desert. It was right under his nose the whole time, hiding in plain sight. "That's right..." he grinned maliciously, rubbing his hands together. "The Maitlands..and good ole' Chuckie and Delia...Yeah...Winter Rivers is looking reeeaaaal good right about now..." It was everything he needed. He had power, leverage, and a location that was just far enough out of reach. It was _perfect._

In a burst of electricity, Beetle felt a surge of power flow into his veins..."Ah, that's more like it..." he leered, feeling miles better already. He cackled hysterically, juicing a giant bottle of booze in his hand and a cuban cigar in his mouth. "Lydia, baby, it's time tah have a little talk with the family..." he said, before vanishing in a burst of green flames.


	19. Sweet Revenge

Chapter 19: Sweet Revenge

Beetlejuice peered through a dusty mirror in what was Lydia's old room back in Winter Rivers, Connecticut. His eyes traced her old belongings. There was a little jewelry box on the dresser, full of trinkets and baubles, and an old hairbrush from when she was just a girl. A hat stand sat in the far corner, that still held her funeral-esque veils and hats neatly in their places from her little gothic phase. There were black feather boas and skull necklaces draped here and there, and a little pair of black gloves still on the edge of her old bed.

It seemed like there were a few updated items here and there, perhaps from her later visits during her living years. A framed newspaper article with her picture on it hung on the wall, showing her achievement as a newly-appointed editor of the local newspaper in the town she'd moved to. He stared at the picture for a moment. She looked so happy and proud, and just as beautiful as she did now, though perhaps with a little more color in her face. He stared into her eyes. She always did have those big, kind eyes, even when the rest of her was being rotten.

Lastly, another frame hung on the wall, and it seemed to be the newest item there, by comparison. It was a display full of insects - _beetles_ , to be precise. All those years ago, and out of all the things to collect, Lydia collected beetles. She really wasn't lying about thinking about him all those years, after all.

His eyes fell to the floor and he sighed. "Get it together..." he muttered, reprimanding himself for his brief moment of pining. "She fucked you over."

Luckily, at that very moment, he noticed a shadow approaching from under the door. Now was his chance. "HEY! HEEEEEY!" he began to yell at the top of his lungs, beating on the glass and making as much noise as inhumanely possible.

It worked rather quickly, for the door flung open, and there stood Charles Deetz, pale faced and speechless. _Perfect,_ Beetle thought. Who would be any better to manipulate, than old Chuck himself? She was his biological daughter after all. Besides, he was all anxiety-ridden and doped up an valiums most of the time. "Heh...Piece a cake..." he muttered, as the man stood there, his mouth gaped open.

"Chuckie Deetz? Ah, thank god! Yer just the guy I need to talk to. Look, I know this is probably a real bad time and shit, but it's really freakin' important!" he said, trying his best to seem all worried and stuff.

"What? Where's Lydia?" Charles gasped, as Beetle felt the man's anxiety and concern seep through the glass.

"That's just it. I need to come over there and talk to ya. It's reeaaal urgent! I can't say it where I'm at, Chuck. It's kinda some afterlife based stipulation bullshit, but I can guarantee you I need over there now or she's done for!" he said drawing a line across his neck with his finger.

"She's in trouble?!" he gasped, bringing a hand to his face.

"You can bet yer forty anxiety medications she is!" Beetle nodded. "It's straight from the Powers That Be! I mean, we're talking about a possible gigantic shitstorm here, Chuckie, and yer daughter will be caught right in the middle of it if we don't intervene! Ya gotta help me, Chuckie! Help me so we can help her! I'd tell ya, but I can't as long as my ass is in the glass, kapeesh?"

"I...uh..." he stammered, seeming both fearful and hesitant. His indecision would need an extra push, Beetle decided.

"Look, I know I can be a tiny bit of a prankster, Chuckie Boy, but I'm droppin' that shit fer her sake. You know the drill. The name. Three times! Ya gotta let me in! It's yer daugher, Chuck. Don't do it for me, do it for _Lydia_! She needs ya!" he begged, clasping his hands together and trying to tug on Charles' heart strings.

"Eh...fine! It's for Lydia..." Charles paused, inhaling deeply. "Betelgeuse..." he began, as Beetle raised his eyebrow, feeling a small crackle of static in the air.

"...Betelgeuse" he spoke again, wiping a hand over his now sweat-laden brow.

"C'mon..." Beetle licked his lips and rubbed his hands together, feeling power begin to flow through him.

"B-Betelgeuse!" he spoke the third time as a wicked grin spread across Beetlejuice's grimy lips.

In a flash, he was out, and now he was standing directly in front of Charles. "Whoo, boy! I can't thank ya enough fer cooperatin' with me, Pops!" he exclaimed, trying to appear harmless as he stepped up to Lydia's father and held out his hand.

When Charles hesitated, Beetle tried a little harder. "Now we can get down to business and help her before it's too late. I'll tell ya everything."

Beetle's eyes moved up to Charles' face as he watched the man nervously swallow and offer his own hand _. Bingo._

As soon as his skin so much as grazed Beetlejuice's hand, the poltergeist instantly locked his grip tightly, causing the man to whimper as a large, heavy set of handcuffs bound the two together. "Hehehe...Good to see ya again, Chuck!" Beetle cackled, yanking him by the cuffs and aiming his other finger and Charles' head like a loaded gun. "Now, yer gonna come with me, and I'm gonna make myself right at home here, and yer gonna be a reeeaal hosipitable host. Got it?!"

Charles whimpered, nodding compliantly. Boy this was like taking candy from a baby - a big, nervous, overly medicated baby! Beetle was thankful he ran into the easy family member this time, and not the likes of Adam or freaking _Barbara._

He pushed Charles Deetz along, leading him down the staircase and into the dining area, where the rest of his enemies-slash-in-laws were sitting around the dinner table. "ALRIGHT! IF ANYONE SAYS THE NAME OR TRIES SOMETHIN' FUNNY IT'S CURTAINS FER ALL OF YA!" he threatened, poking his loaded finger against Charles' head and causing him to yelp.

Barbara, who was seated at the end of the table, was the first one to stand up defiantly. That figured. "What are you doing-"

"Ah, ah!" he grinned as he interrupted her outburst. He shook his head, before aiming his finger right in her direction. He "fired" it at her, knocking her back into her seat and causing black and white snake-like ropes to appear and tie her into it.

"You asshole! Where's Lydia?" she yelled hysterically, as Adam jumped up next.

"Hehe, still feisty after all these years..." he waggled his eyebrows and leered at her just to piss her off, and did so quite successfully. "Oh, yer little ghost daughter is just fine. I'M the one that's in trouble! Hence why I stepped back in here with you losers!" he spat, turning back to Adam, who was trying his best to get close to him.

"Fuck off, Dweebie!" he snarled, shooting his finger and knocking Adam into the wall, where more ropes began to burst through and wrapped around his appendages, holding him firmly into place.

"What did you do with her?!" he yelled, as Beetle rolled his eyes.

"Family occasions. Ya know I hate 'em! Relatives always nosin' in mah business and all. Wantin' to know me and the wifey's personal shit..." he smiled deviously, ignoring Adam completely. "Okay, who's next?" he asked, as once again, Delia took one look at him and fainted in her chair. "M'kay, that was easy." he shrugged, pointing to her and binding her limp body to the chair just as he had Barbara's.

He then led Charles along and shoved him down in a nearby chair and did the same, while removing his freakishly large handcuffs. "Gotta save those fer later, if yaknowhaddimean!" he growled in Charles' ear. When the man looked up at Beetle in horror, he grinned lecherously. "Yer daugher has a kinky side, Chuckie. Wouldn't be your doin,would it? That shit has daddy issues written all over it, if ya ask me! HAHAHAHA!" he cackled, shoving Charles back in his seat.

Beetle looked about himself, feeling pretty satisfied. He placed his hands on his hips, looking around the table. "Ain't it nice when we can all get together like this? I mean, I know it was a hassle, what with everyone's schedules an' all, but we pulled it off! It was completely worth it, I tell ya!" he grinned, taking a seat amonst them and keeping his finger at the ready should anyone get stupid enough to dare say his name.

"I-I just want to know if my daughter's okay..." Charles spoke up, his face pasty and eyes wide with concern.

"Oh, the little she-devil is doing just peachy. Lemme ask ya somethin'. Yer daughter watch a lot of crime shows growin' up, Chuckie?" Beetle's eyes narrowed in on him.

"Don't you call her that, you creep! That's our god daughter you're talking about!" Barbara scowled.

"Ah, Babs, ya say it like the two are mutually exclusive! Well I'll let ya in on a little secret. They're NOT!" he fired back. "She just sicked the cops on me! So excuse my ass if I don't wanna write her a sonnet and whisper sweet nothings in her ear right now!"

"What did you do?!" Adam interrogated him accusingly from across the room, his glasses sliding to the end of his nose and making him look even more dorky, if that was even possible.

"NOTHIN! It's all on her this time!" he yelled, as they all returned a collective eye roll. "Fine, don't believe me you losers. Don't worry, I'm gonna give her a little call and you'll all hear the truth real soon..."


	20. Leverage

Chapter 20: Leverage

Lydia had just been released from police custody, after a very long and tiring couple of days. First, it had taken the cops quite a while to break through her chains, and that was followed by a very irritating, yet highly unnecessary ride in an ambulance. After that nice little visit to the hospital, she'd been shipped back to the police station where she had been questioned extensively about the events that had indeed led to the hostage situation that she'd originally planned on lying about in the first place. Ironically, the story ended up not being so fabricated after all. It was just when Lydia began to walk out of the building, that Juno walked in.

"There you are, Mrs. Juice! How are you faring after your husband's little stunt?" she asked, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"So you already heard about it?" Lydia winced, though it probably wasn't out of the ordinary for Juno to have a heads up when it came to these matters, given not only her profession, but her individual involvement in this particular situation.

"Heard about it?!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "Why it's plastered all over the news! Your husband is a wanted fugitve now." She shook her head in exasperation. "At least we're off the hook - from the authorities, that is. I'm not so sure if that's the case with Juice, though. No doubt, he'll want revenge." she stated, in a hushed tone, considering they were still within eashot of the cops.

"Yeah..." Lydia's gaze fell to the floor. "That's what I'm afraid of. I really thought I had him cornered. Boy, was I wrong."

"I told you he was clever, Mrs. Juice. We'll have to be on the lookout for him. There's no telling what he'll try." Juno spoke, her gaze trailing off in the distance, more than likely due to worry.

"It's so weird. I don't even know how he caught onto me." Lydia's face twisted in confusion.

"He's been able to feel your emotions this whole time, without telling you he could. What did you expect? Besides, he's remarkable at reading others, despite what it may seem." she replied. "Either way, you know how to reach me if things get serious. We'll still be testifying, but who knows when that may be at this point." Juno shrugged. "Now go home and get some rest. I heard they're assigning an officer to patrol the area, so you should be remotely safe there, for the time being. However, should Beetle get vengeful and try and contact you, you come straight to me before anybody else, understand?" she ordered, the expression on her face quite sobering.

"Okay." Lydia nodded, feeling incredibly queasy. She knew Beetlejuice enough to know he wouldn't simply fade out just to hide from the cops. He would go kicking and screaming, and he'd direct all of that white-hot rage her way, given she was the reason he was now currently running.

Juno nodded back, before vanishing in a cloud of smoke and leaving her to herself. Lydia stepped out of the building and into the cool air of night. An ominous and dreadful feeling prickled down her spine as she stared at the twisting, jagged clouds in the night sky. "Okay, BJ, what's next?" she muttered to herself, before vanishing into the night.

* * *

The Roadhouse was eerily quiet without Beetlejuice around. Lydia stepped through it, here eyes scanning every room and thinking of just how quickly things had spiraled out of control. Just a few days ago they were hitting things off in a casino and Beetle was fumbling his way around asking for sex, and now he'd literally taken her as a hostage and was currently on the NPD's most wanted list.

She slowly paced down the hallway, only to stop and peer in her room. The bed was completely tarnished, with broken chunks of metal and chains laying about. Yeah, that was a dick move, but she made it a point to stick with her guns this time. Though Beetlejuice was completely off his rocker at this point, she still knew deep down he wasn't as bad as the stupid things he'd done. Whether that opinion would change was to be determined, but she knew that she would be the judge of that and nobody else. Either way, he would have to go to prison some day. It was just a matter of time.

Lydia wasn't lying when she said she'd come back for him. After the poor guy lost his mind in solitary confinement, he'd need someone around to help him out and pick up the pieces. She was simply grateful that he couldn't force her into his place now, so maybe her gut was proving to be more right everyday. It had certainly helped her get this far.

* * *

In the wee hours of the night, Lydia sat on the sofa, mindlessly flipping through channels and trying to ignore the disconcerting feelings flowing through her at the moment. Could it be possible to entirely love someone, yet greatly resent them, fear them, and quite possibly pity them at the same time? Lydia believed so, given she was doing just that. Quite frankly, she missed him. He probably hated her at the moment, and she believed that even though he'd put distance between them, she could feel his bitterness in the back of her mind like a subconscious thought.

She also had an inkling that the the feeling would be mutual soon. She laid down the remote, feeling a subtle energy in the air. The more still and alert she became, the more she could have sworn she'd felt it.

It was cold and icy, and it ran up her spine like a shiver in the night. She closed her eyes, trying to sense just what was going on. She began to feel the hot, black tendrils of rage from a distance. They were reaching and pulling for her, though they were far away. She swallowed, swearing she could almost hear her name, not technically in a verbal manner, but more like the passing energy of a thought.

 _...Lydia..._

Gasping, her eyes snapped open, wide and fearful. Directly on the coffee table in front of her sat an old timey rotary phone. Lydia gawked at the newly formed item, frozen in silence. She nearly jumped out of her undead skin when it began to ring loudly, reverberating through the whole house.

Lydia jumped up, pacing around the phone, her eyes fixated on the unnerving object, undoubtedly knowing that he was on the other side. She bit her nails, not knowing if it would be more dangerous to answer or ignore him.

 _...Answer...Lydia..._

Did she really even have a choice? They were bound together, after all. Any move she did or didn't make would probably be noted by him three times over. Lydia inhaled deeply, swallowing hard and extending a shaky, pale hand.

She gripped the receiver, feeling a cold, prickly hum of electricity through the handle. She trembled, bringing it up to her ear.

"Mrs. Juice, I know yer there..." his malevolent voice stated in a sing-songy way, making her skin crawl. Something was terribly off about the vibrations in the air, and it was disturbing her more by the minute.

"W-hat do you want?" Lydia asked, feeling strangely afraid and timid at the moment.

"Now yer on mah level. Yer dear hubby does have a special request, given you tried to sic the fuzz on my ass!" he shouted in her ear, causing her to wince and pull the phone away.

Lydia stood at a loss for words, frozen in place, listening with her mouth gaped open.

"Now you listen tah me, an' you listen good, you little succubus! Yer gonna find a way to get those pigs off my trail, or things are gonna get reeaaaal bad, ya understand?!" he growled, menacingly.

Suddenly, her fear turned into anger as he spat his ridiculous demands in her ear. "And just how am I supposed to do that?!"

"I dunno, but you sure as shit better find out!" he spat.

"So it's okay for you to put me away, but now that I've turned the tables I'm suddenly your enemy?! That's insane!" Lydia fumed, feeling her temperature rise.

"I done told ya, it ain't the same, you crazy broad! They may put you away for a while, Babe, but they'll do worse tah me! I ain't gettin' my ass exorcised for no one! Not even you!" he continued on his tirade, as Lydia rolled her eyes, reasoning that this was a weird grab at sympathy or some other manipulation tactic.

"Whatever..." she sighed in disbelief and frustration. "Bye, BJ. Figure it out for yourself."

"AH! AH! I wouldn't do that!" he yelled, stopping her from slamming the phone down, though she felt greatly compelled to do just that.

"WHAT!?" Lydia huffed.

"Ya don't know where I am, do ya, Mrs. Juice?" he leered, as Lydia's anger began to be replaced by worry once more.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm back in the states, Babe. Found a nice little getaway to keep me from those pesky federal agents. Real nice place, that Winter Rivers, Connecticut..." he spoke, as Lydia's eyes grew wide.

"No...no..." she gasped.

"Good ole' Chucky himself invited me to dinner! Made me feel right at home! A course, if ya don't fix this little shitstorm ya put me in, the B-man may just have to make this dump his permanent residence! Now, I know ya wouldn't love that now, would ya?" he threatened.

"What are you going to do to them?!" Lydia asked, her voice shaky with rage and fear.

"Whatever the fuck I need to get outta this shit! The longer I stay, the more I just might wanna make this MY place! I'm sure I can find some nice cages to lock mah in-laws inside of. Yer little Maitlands should be fine, but Chucky and Delia might get a lil' hungry after a few weeks. Shit might get a little hard for the breathers..." he continued, chuckling darkly.

"A-and how do I know this isn't just some hair-brained lie to get me to do what you want?" she questioned, not wanting to give in so quickly to the psychopath on the phone.

"I dunno...Lemme ask 'em..." he trailed off, before Charles Deetz' voice came over the phone.

"S-sweatpea? Is that you?!" he gasped, sounding terrified, and causing Lydia to feel his horror through the receiver.

"Dad?!" she choked up, feeling the all-too-real situation around her. "Are you okay?! What has he done?!"

"M-mi-mirror-" was all he could struggle to say, before Lydia heard a loud scream, and Charles' voice faded away.

"Ya convinced now, Sweat-Pea? HAHAHAHAHA!" he cackled, before the line abruptly cut off, leaving nothing but a busy signal ringing in Lydia's ear.


	21. Hitting the Fan

Chapter 21: Hitting the Fan

Lydia stood at the other side of her mirror, quietly scanning her bedroom for any sign of Beetlejuice. Against Juno's orders, she'd swiftly materialized right outside the borders of Winter River's existence, bypassing any conversations she was supposed to have with her case worker. After hearing her father's pitiful voice over the phone, she simply couldn't bring herself to wait any longer.

She wasn't even sure what she could do if she were pitted against the likes of her deranged husband, but due to the urgency in Charles' voice, she had to at least try to do _something,_ whatever that may be.

Her room was dark and eerily quiet, with no traces of static or electricity around. She closed her eyes and pressed her cold, pale hand against the glass, searching for Beetlejuice's vibrations. _Nothing._

It was so still in the Deetz household, that she wondered if he'd ever been there at all. Perhaps it was all an elaborate scheme to get her to Winter Rivers and trap her there. Regardless, Lydia felt compelled to carry on anyway. Her family's safety was her number one concern, even if it put her at risk.

Lydia inhaled deeply before pressing firmly on the glass. First the ends of her fingers pushed through, followed by her palms, and finally the rest of her. She silently moved across the hardwood floor, her eyes wide and alert. She held her breath and pressed her ear up to the door, listening for any signs of Beetlejuice or his special brand of chaos. At first, she was met with silence, but then a small bit of radio static bled through the door. The noise became louder and louder, and she backed away from the entrance of her room, fearing it was Beetle drawing near.

"Oof!" she stopped, crashing into an unknown object.

"Back so soon, ?" a dark, cunning voiced drawled in the dark.

Lydia whipped around, her fearful eyes meeting the green, menacing eyes of Beetlejuice. He looked wild and feral in the dark, and he was grinning like a madman. Shadows of the night danced across his features, causing him to appear even more inhuman and malevolent. He sucked on a cuban cigar, before blowing a puff of snaking smoke in her direction, causing her to choke on it.

"Where are they?! What did you do to them?" Lydia backed away from him, watching him with wary eyes.

"Now there ya go, gettin' all up in mah business and shit. Can't the husband throw a little dinner party fer yer folks without you gettin' yer knickers in a wad?" he asked, obviously playing dumb just to get to her.

Lydia could feel her blood begin to boil. "Why do you have to do this?!" she lashed out, screaming at him.

"I already told ya. Your little ass gave me no choice! YOU were the one who called the cops on ME! It's YER fault those chumps are in this mess! Hell, it's ALL yer fault Lydia-fuckin'-Juice! If you'da just left all this shit alone and not came crawlin' back to my ass with yer weepy do-gooder shit, I'd be out, scott free! YOU came back! YOU put on that fuckin' ring, and YOU ran yer yap! And now YER pissed that I'm gonna defend myself!" he yelled back, stepping up to her in an attempt to apparently intimidate her. He then poked his dirty finger in her face. "I told ya, Juice, if it's you or me, I'M not gettin' caught! It's all yer mess, ya fuckin' SCREW UP! FIX IT!"

"Screw up..." Lydia muttered, tasting his bitter words again in her own mouth. "That's what you really think of me?"

"Yer damned right I do! If I'd a' knew then what I know now, I'd a' left yer' ass in that nasty bar FOREVER! You ain't done nothin' but ruin my fuckin' afterlife! I wish I'd a' never MET yer ass!" he retaliated, his words sharp as razors.

Lydia could feel something inside of her break into a thousand pieces, the pain of those words mixing with the feelings of self loathing she'd been fighting for two lifetimes. Even someone as fucked up as Beetlejuice was agreeing that she was a failure. She could feel her eye twitch at the sound of his words. Then something happened - her feelings of self-hatred began to spark and ignite around her. She glared at him, staring him down.

"Fuck you..." she muttered, before screaming at him again. "FUCK YOU!" Suddenly, lightning burst from her body, knocking the poltergeist, along with her furniture back against the wall. The door flung open, and Lydia burst out, running down the stairs to lock eyes with her beloved family. She may have been a screw up, but she wasn't going to just sit back and let Beetlejuice harm the ones she loved most.

"Oh, no..." she gasped, running to them and seeing that each of their mouths had been bolted shut. They were each strapped down to a chair, and Charles and Delia, in particular, looked very sickly and pale. In her rage, she juiced all the straps from the seats, causing her family to fall to the floor. She tried just as hard to free their mouths, but each attempt to work her power proved to be a fruitless endeavor.

"Oh, no ya don't!" Beetle sprinted down the stairs, as Lydia's family tried to scramble to their feet. Barbara was the first to get up. She waved her arm at Beetle, trying her best to use her powers against him, only for him to point at her and send her flying backwards, knocking her against the wall. "Nice try, Babs. But you and yer dweeby husband ain't no match fer me. So don't even try it!" he fumed, pointing his finger and pinning Adam onto the floor.

Suddenly, Lydia lifted her hands, sending another burst of lightening his way, knocking him on his rear-end. "STOP IT, BJ! LEAVE THEM ALONE!" she demanded, before turning to her father and step-mother. "Run!" she screamed, as the two quickly nodded, darting out of the dining room and out of sight.

"HA! Ya think yer real slick, don't ya? Well, they ain't leavin' cuz I done chained all the doors and windows shut! You may have a few little tricks inside of ya, Mrs. Juice, but you ain't no match fer the B-man! I been doin' this illegal shit fer centuries, Babe! You're a fuckin' novice next to me! HAHAHA!" he cackled wildly, slapping his leg in amusement and causing her to seeth inside.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Lydia screamed, throwing every ounce of energy she had at him. With each jolt of power, he was knocked back, time, and again, trying to gain his footing so he could ultimately strike back. She began to fling furniture at him, hitting him with chairs and barstools. She finally flipped the table up and smashed it into him as hard as she could. As soon as he fell on his back, covered in furnishings and appliances, she snapped her fingers, and Adam and Barbara gained their footing, running to the corner of the room and bracing themselves. Still, no matter how hard Lydia tried, her power couldn't remove the bolted metal from any of their mouths.

Things grew quiet, as she ran to the Maitlands, throwing her arms around them, and feeling overcome with guilt. "I'm so sorry...This is all my fault!" They attempted to console her, despite their current inability to talk, but the moment was short lived when Beetle staggered up from the wreckage he'd been buried under.

"Okay, Lydia. That's enough of yer shit." he said, coldly, dusting himself off and slowly edging in on her and her beloved Maitlands.

Lydia stepped up to him in an attempt to keep the carnage away from Adam and Barbara, despite their whimpering attempts to pull her back. Before Lydia knew it, he'd grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, picking her up with one powerful jolt and carrying her up the stairs.

"I took it easy on yer ass, but not anymore. You wanna play tough? We'll play tough!" he snarled, as she tried fighting against him unsuccessfully. Each hit fell through him as if she were trying to punch smoke. He packed her to her room and held her up. His eyes burned into hers. "I'm not gonna let you turn me in! I ain't lettin' those assholes kill me!"

"Your lying! You just want me serving your prison sentence!" she growled, struggling to wriggle free from his grip.

He looked into her eyes with a vengeance, and for a moment, she thought he was going to burst her into flames. "You fix this, Lydia! NOW! If you come back here, you sure as hell better off my ass, because I ain't lettin' ya go next time! You'll be strapped to a seat with the rest of your fuckin' family! Understand?!" he threatened her.

"You're a fucking monster..." she said, glaring at him as hard as she could muster.

Then, with one fell swoop, he'd shoved her back into the mirror with an incredibly hard push. Lydia flew backwards, hitting the wall of the Roadhouse with an unceremonious thud. She stumbled to her feet, dusting herself off and seeing her mirror in the faint distance of her mind. Hundreds of locks and chains wrapped themselves tightly around it in a serpent-like manner, sealing it off from her.

"Shit..." she shook her head, as a tear rolled down her cheek in desperation. This was getting unbelievably worse by the second. "What do I do...?' she panicked, whimpering to herself, before the obvious hit her.

* * *

Lydia appeared in Juno's office, as the old woman spoke to a young man with an apple on his head and an arrow through his skull.

"What is it ? " Juno huffed, blowing smoke about her office, and causing the young ghost to cough.

"It's BJ." Lydia stated, feeling faint and out of breath. "This is bad."


	22. Forbidden Knowledge

Chapter 22: Forbidden Knowledge

Juno, who had long dismissed her current client to listen to Lydia's terrible news, currently sat rubbing her forehead in what seemed to be intense worry and exasperation. "Lydia, I told you not to confront him without consulting me!" she snapped, pointing her cigarette angrily in Lydia's direction.

"I know. I just panicked after I heard my father! I didn't think it though." Lydia admitted, defeatedly.

"Your damned right you didn't! If Beetle harms a mortal, it could very well expose all of the Neitherworld to the land of the living! Not to mention all the repercussions you and I will personally have..." she trailed off, standing and pacing about silently, causing Lydia to grow more uneasy by the second. "I didn't want to have to do this, but it seems as though we have no choice at this point...'

"What?!" Lydia gasped, hoping against hope that there was something she could possibly do.

Juno warily scanned her office before locking both locks on the front door. "Follow me, and for god's sake, be quiet!" she demanded in a hushed tone, before disappearing through the back door, leaving a trail of smoke behind her.

Lydia followed her through the back door, as she led her through what seemed to be a maze of rooms with files stacked near to the ceiling. Boxes upon boxes of folders and papers lined each room, and each hallway and office room grew darker and more ominous along the way. Finally, after what seemed like half an hour of twisting through unknown rooms, Juno stopped in front of a door with about a dozen different locks on it.

Lydia watched as Juno unlocked one by one, occasionally glancing behind her in what could only be something akin to paranoia. After she'd unlocked the final one, she motioned for Lydia to quickly enter.

She stepped through the door, with Juno quickly stepping in behind her and shutting the door, blocking out most of the light and leaving them in darkness.

"W-what-" Lydia began, before being immediately shushed by Juno.

Slowly, the pitch black around her began to adjust, as Juno flicked a switch in the room, and a faint red light glowed from overhead. Lydia's eyes began to adjust as well, just barely able to see her surroundings.

"This way..." Juno spoke in a hushed tone, motioning Lydia along.

They stepped up to a small safe, where Juno warily punched in a code, and reached inside, pulling out a strange, ominous book. Lydia scanned the object in her hand, noting that it appeared to be very ancient, with a strange, cryptic symbol on it's leatherbound cover.

"What it is?" Lydia whispered, in awe of the strangely enticing object.

"It's a very ancient book of knowledge. I would tell you the name, but the tongue is so ancient I can't pronounce it. This, " Juno began, clutching the book tightly in both hands, "is how Beetle managed to gain his power...and his curse..."

"How?" Lydia asked, in awe.

"There are only two of these in all of the afterlife, and Beetle managed to steal one. He still has it somewhere, more than likely, due to the fact that it never turned up. This holds the spell he used to grant himself diety-like powers. The idiot didn't read the fine print, though. To use the powers, yielded a curse. That curse granted him the name he has today." she explained, opening the book and flicking through the pages, before stopping. "Right here! Read this!"

Lydia began to read the strange, glowing paragraphs, her eyes growing wide in surprise. "So, why didn't you just tell me this? Why did I have to read it?"

"I wanted you to see this book, in case you ever come across the other one. You need to know what it looks like, so if you should find his copy, you could return it where it rightfully belongs. It's far too dangerous to stay out there in the Neitherworld, unguarded." Juno replied, the wrinkles in her face traced with concern. "So, do you understand what you must do?"

"Yeah...He really is a liar, isn't he? He told me that if anyone says his name three times here in the afterlife, they'll be sent to Saturn where the Sandworms will devour them." Lydia muttered, folding her arms.

"Doesn't surprise me in the least. He knows if word gets out that he can be controlled with his name in the afterlife, he's done for. And he especially wanted you to remain ignorant due to the fact that your ring will give you the ability to pull all of his power from his body and keep it there until you release him by saying his name three times." Juno explained, as Lydia felt a brief flicker of hope inside of her.

Juno continued. "Now, under no circumstances are you to tell anybody what you know. This information is highly confidential because of its detrimental nature. Don't even let your relatives catch you saying his name in order to achieve this! We could both doom ourselves to that very prison time we're trying to avoid! Only you and I are to know this, understand?" she asked, her tone as serious as death itself.

Lydia nodded, swallowing back the unease that knowing this information had caused her. "I understand. So, what am I to do with him once I drain his power?"

"There's only two things you can do, Mrs. Juice. You either force him to turn himself in, or send him to Saturn." Juno said, and Lydia could've sworn she heard a touch of remorse in the old woman's voice. "Either way, it has to be done."

"You're right. It's time to end this." Lydia nervously replied.

* * *

Lydia stood in the dark hallway of the Roadhouse, her undead heart beating wildly due to her nerves. She didn't even realize it could still do that anymore. "It's now or never..." she swallowed, clinching her fists and closing her eyes.

In the darkness of her mind was the old vanity mirror to her room in Winter Rivers, Connecticut. It was still bound tightly with powerful chains and locks to keep her out.

She concentrated with all her might, finding herself in front of the vanity, with darkness surrounding her, as her eyes traced the bindings of Beetlejuice's power. A small prickle of guilt tried to crawl up from the recesses of her mind, but she quickly squashed any notions of holding back and replaced them with the urgent truth that he was holding her loved ones hostage, which could end particularly badly for the living ones.

She steadied her shaky breath, looking all about herself and realizing that she was, indeed, alone and safe to use her power.

"Betelgeuse..." she whispered faintly in the darkness, causing a small tingle inside of her body.

"Betelgeuse..." she whispered a second time, causing electricity to sparkle around her in the darkness like stars in the sky.

A strong urge to resist his name came through, but she licked her lips and forced it out. "Betelgeuse!" she shouted, and the name seemed to echo a thousand times in the darkness around her.

In an istant, she was filled with what felt like a million volts of electricity. She took one look at the chains on the vanity, and they instantly burst apart, giving her full access to her old home. This was it. Now it was time to finish what she had started, once and for all.


	23. A Desperate Idea

Chapter 23: A Desperate Idea

Lydia burst through the mirror, marching up to her room door and flinging it open with a single thought. She stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes narrowing in on Beetlejuice, who was leaned back against the wall, puffing on a cigarette with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"You again, huh? What'd ya do, come back fer more punishment, Mrs. Juice?" he laughed smugly, rolling up his sleeves. "I told ya, I didn't want to have to do this, but yer ass is persistent. Guess we'll all be livin' in Winter Rivers from now on! Hope yer into bondage, Babe..." he leered, walking toward her with a menacing grin on his face.

Apparently, he had no idea of her plans for once in her afterlife, and for that she was eternally grateful. She simply ignored his remarks. "What did you do with them?" she asked, walking down the stairs and pushing him to the side with ease.

"The hell?!" he stammered in surprise, before gaining his bearings. "Oh, there just hangin' out." he shrugged, as Lydia stepped into the living room.

She glanced around, before looking up to see them all dangling upside down by black and white-striped ropes, their mouths still bound shut with metal and bolts.

"See, what'd I tell ya?" Beetle cackled wildly.

Of course, his laughter ceased to a halt, when Lydia raised her hand, gently releasing them from their bonds and lowering them to the ground, where Barbara and Adam rushed to help their living counterparts who were struggling far more than they.

"What the fuck?" she heard Beetlejuice mutter from behind her. Still, she didn't loosen the metal on their mouths for fear of interfereing with her own use of his name.

"BJ, no more." Lydia turned to him, noting that his eyes had narrowed in on her.

"Hey, it ain't over 'till I say it's over, ya little-" he began, only for her to push him up against the wall with his own power, causing him to gasp. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOIN' ON HERE?!" He began to flail and writhe about wildly.

"It IS over, BJ. You're coming with me. I'm turning you in!" she stated, as his eyes grew wide and manic upon his immediate realization of just what was happening.

"You! YOU SAID MY NAME, YOU LITTLE BIMBO! NOOOOO!" he tried his best to scramble away, only for her to pin him harder with a simple thought.

Seeing him squirm made Lydia even angrier, as she ruminated over just how much he'd tried to screw her over. "Serves you right, you asshole!" she retorted, juicing him with a big bolt of lightning just to hear him yelp.

"YOU LITTLE WITCH, YOU BETTER HOPE I DON'T GET MY POWER BACK!" he struggled, literally kicking and screaming. As a matter of fact, the more he struggled, the more she juiced him, just to get her point across. Now it was HER turn to be scary. It was HER turn to intimidate him for a change, and boy did it feel wonderful.

She didn't stop until she was satisfied, and he was in the floor twitching. Now it was her turn to throw _his_ ass out! Lydia stepped up to the poltergeist, pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, just as he'd done to her, and using his power, she tossed him through the mirror and back into the Neitherworld with ease.

Quickly, she turned her attention to her loved ones, bolting back down the stairs and zapping the metal from their lips.

"Lydia, how did you do that?!" Adam asked, his eyes wide in awe, along with the others.

"I'm sorry, I can't say. Please watch over Dad and Delia while I'm away. I'll be back as soon as I can!" she said quickly, her eyes grazing over her father and stepmother as they laid in the floor in sheer exhaustion.

"Of course we will, honey." Barbara said, stepping up to her and hugging her tightly. "Just be safe, Lydia."

Lydia nodded, before sprinting quickly up to her room, and jumping back through the mirror.

* * *

She appeared back inside of the dark Roadhouse, where Beetle sat in the floor with his back propped against the wall, holding a trembling cigarette to his lips. Needless to say, he looked like hell.

Lydia stepped up to him, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, are you ready to come with me and get this over with?" she asked, hoping he'd just comply so they could both get this over with and just move on from it, if that was even possible at this point.

"Damn, you really want to get rid of me, dontcha', ya little skag..." he muttered, sounding resentful.

"You'd do the same to me, BJ. You already proved that." she spat, returning the same venom he'd thrown her way. "You held my family hostage, for crying out loud! You'd stop at nothing to put me behind bars..."

"Yeah, well there's a difference between prison and the second death, dearie." he spat, knocking his ashes to the floor. "There's no tellin' yer ass that. I'll be dead before ya realize what yer stupid ass has done. Can't believe ya stole my powers...The fuck did ya do that?!"

"That's not for you to know. Besides, how am I supposed to believe that stupid exorcism nonsense you keep spewing. Your the only one who's saying that, and you lie constantly! You're probably just trying to get your way again!" Lydia huffed, her anger not settling.

"Fine. There's only one way to find out. You turn me in, and I either end up in the clink for a thousand or so, or you never see me again. If ya let me walk, I'll be alive...er...sorta...If ya turn me in, there's a fifty percent chance my ass is tellin' the truth." he said, limping up to her. "Are you willin' to live with the consequences if you choose wrong, Mrs. Juice?! Fuck, you've already stripped me of everything! You took away my freedom and my powers and shit! What more do ya want?"

Lydia paused, his words catching her off guard. He actually had a very valid question. Was she willing to take such a risk, realizing that he could be potentially telling the truth? For a brief moment, she let her rage fall to the wayside. She knew she couldn't banish him to Saturn, because she worried he wouldn't escape the Sandworms this time around. She also knew that she only wanted to send him to jail if he was put away like she'd be. However, she knew deep down that if she sent him away, and they did away with him, that she'd never forgive herself. No matter how much of an asshole he'd been, she couldn't bring herself to stoop so low. It wasn't inside of her to do such a thing.

Therein was the new, deliriously painful dilemma. She couldn't send him away if that was the risk, but what could she do? There had to be something! She racked her brain, pacing about, as Beetle grew silent for once. Then it donned on her. It wasn't a foolproof plan or anything, but it was a start.

"Okay, BJ. Where's the book?" Lydia asked, causing Beetle to wrinkle up his face in confusion.

"The hell'r you talkin' about?" he threw up his hands.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. The book you stole to gain your powers. I need it, and I need it now!" she demanded.

"WHAT?! I can't give ya that!" he protested.

"You can if you want me to spare your ass!" she ordered, as he shot daggers at her with his green eyes.

"FINE!" he yelled, limping over to his recliner and pointing at the floor. "It's under there, ya she banchie!" he growled.

With a flick of her wrist, she moved his recliner back about ten feet and ripped up the floorboards. There sat the glowing, leather-bound anomaly. "Good." she nodded, as she turned to him. "Now you're leaving." she stated coldly.

"What? What the fuck'r ya gonna do with m-" and before he could finish, she sent him teleporting through the Neitherworld.

In her mind she searched the vast expanse of the great beyond, hoping to find a place that would be safe for the time being, at least until she devised a plan to fix her mess. Finally, she found a remote island at the far end of existence. It was empty, and barely detectable. Using her mind and with his incredible power, she lauched him there, watching him hit with a hard thud, causing her to wince a bit internally. Once she noticed that he slowly sat up, rubbing his forehead, she let him be.

She then opened her eyes, holding the book tightly in her grasp. "I'd better get started..."


	24. Last Resorts

Chapter 24: Last Resorts

Lydia strained to wearily keep her eyes open, manifesting another espresso out of thin air to keep her alert, as she studied page after page of the ancient book spread out before her. The wording was strange and complicated, but she powered through, nonetheless, absorbing any and all information possible, in hopes that she could do just as her husband, and find a loophole or some magic words to fix things. In short, Lydia was completely and utterly desparate to fix the mess she knew that she'd had a hand in.

She knew she was to blame for the mess they were ultimately in, and even if Beetlejuice was a son of a bitch, she didn't want him to bite the big one permanently, if that was truly the case. She still tried, despite everything, to follow her gut, and her gut told her to research. There had to be something she could do to save him. If not, he'd be forever on the run, and she'd be forever at odds with him. Eternity was one hell of a long time to argue with your deranged spouse.

* * *

It was into the wee hours of the morning, and Lydia could barely keep her eyes open. Though she was dead and figured herself to be immune to fatige, that just wasn't the case. Reading had always made her sleepy in life, and it carried over promptly into her death.

She was to the point of passing out, when she hit the chapter concerning changing the composition of both the physical and metaphysical planes of existence. She shook her head, her eyes opening a bit wider as her interest peaked. Maybe there was something she could change in the reality around them to fix things. What, she wasn't sure of, but whatever it was, she needed to change it and before the Neitherworld authorities could catch on to anything.

"The mind's eye..." she mumbled to herself, already realizing that she'd inadvertently used this particular power a few times before, when she'd called the cops on Beetle and banished him to a remote island. "I can do this..." she said, realizing that even before absorbing his power, she had an exceptionally easy time performing that particular task.

The television flickered silently in the background, with various images that she'd ignored throughout her intense study session, that was, until a certain headline trailed across the bottom of the screen, her eyes catching the words and holding onto them.

"Dangerous fugitive on the run in Neitherworld..." she read, her eyes growing wide. She quickly turned up the volume on the remote, wanting to hear more and fearing for what was to come.

"AUTHORITIES SAY THE FUGITIVE IS ARMED AND DANGEROUS, WITH MULTIPLE CRIMES AND VIOLATIONS SPANNING CENTURIES, THAT CAN AND POSSIBLY WILL END WITH CHARGES OF PERMANENT TERMINATION BY EXORCISM." the news anchor's voice boomed, giving Lydia a sinking feeling inside. "PLEASE ALERT AUTHORITIES IF YOU ARE TO SEE THIS POLTERGEIST. DO NOT CONFRONT OR APPROACH HIM. HE IS HIGHLY VOLATILE."

"So, he was telling the truth the whole time..." Lydia said, her voice thick with worry, as one of his old convict photos flashed up on the screen. This changed everything entirely. No longer was he a potential slimeball who only thought about himself. Sure, he could be a slimeball, and sometimes he was, but he'd only stooped so low to keep himself from a permanent fate that he couldn't recover from. This truly was a matter of afterlife or death for him.

Lydia placed her head in her palms, her heart dropping to the floor. "What have I done...?" she moaned, feeling helpless.

'IN OTHER NEWS, THE NEITHERWORLD MAIN GOVERNMENTAL DATABASE SUPERCOMPUTER GAINED A MUCH-NEEDED UPGRADE THIS PAST MONTH. OFFICIALS SAY THIS NEW MEMORY UPGRADE WILL ALLOW UP TO TEN THOUSAND YEARS OF GOVERNMENTAL RECORDS AND DATA TO BE STORED, MORE THAN DOUBLING ITS PREVIOUS STORAGE CAPACITY." The voice on the television continued, moving on to the next story.

Lydia didn't know if it was a strange twist of fate, some sort of divine intervention, or if it was merely an extremely lucky coincidence, but she believed she now knew the answer to her terrible dilemma.

"The database..." she breathed in, trying to remember the image of the gigantic computer she'd seen on the screen. Then she closed her eyes, trying her best to find it in the expanses of time and space. Suddenly, through the blackness of the void, she saw an area somewhat similar to the famous military desert base back in her days of living. It had high security fences and multiple structures everywhere. "Where is this...?" she wondered, her voice echoing in her mind. It was certainly real, but she couldn't get a proper feel of it or its location.

She entered through the walls, her eyes scanning various papers and diagrams laden throughout every office building and winding hallway. Various ghouls in suits and skirts paced about, holding stacks of papers that were more than likely, highly confidenital. Lydia searched about for what seemed like a lifetime, beginning to lose hope. It wasn't until her mind's eye caught a glimpse of an area map on the wall of one particular office. She scanned it, imprinting every detail inside of her psyche. It was after that, that she began to grow weary and ill, and thus, retreated back to her undead body in the roadhouse.

When she returned to the present, she squeezed her eyes closed, noting that her head was now throbbing and her body was shaking. The book had warned that this particular power, when used in high concentrations, was extremely dangerous and risky to the user, much like most of the powers in the book. The fact that she was so far away only caused her to drain herself that much faster. However, her nightmarish problem would never alleviate if she didn't try something, no matter how risky. She didn't want to be at war with the likes of Beetlejuice for all eternity, and she really didn't want to be responsible for his exorcism. This was the only choice she seemed to have.

Lydia exhaled, closing her eyes and materializing the map she'd mentally imprinted into her hand. She tried to make sense of the strange, encrypted coordinates, but she just couldn't.

"C'mon...c'mon..." she mentally coaxed herself, hoping for some sort of epiphany to happen, but coming up short each time. "God, I wish I knew more about this crap..." she stood, shaking her head as she clinched the map in her hand. She suddenly felt desperate and frail inside, not knowing who to turn to or what to do. She paced about, her eyes welling with tears and ready for a near meltdown, when it hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Gerald!" she realized, gasping. "I gotta go!" she said, snapping her finger and vanishing into a cloud of purple smoke.


	25. The Map

Chapter 25: The Map

"Gerald, I need your help!" Lydia shot into Gerald's apartment in a blinding, bright purple blast, knocking the poor man off of his feet and, in turn, scaring the daylights out of him.

"Oh! Lydia, what on earth is wrong?!" he gasped, as she stumbled over herself trying to help him to his feet.

"I can't exactly tell you, but it's urgent! I have to know where this is, and I have no idea how to read it! Can you help me, please?" she pleaded, holding the map up to his face with quivering hands.

"A-are you sure you're okay, Lydia?" he asked, dabbing at the sweat now forming on his brow with a handkerchief. "It's not that husband of yours is it? I heard what happened, and I've been worried about you ever since."

"I'll explain everything to you once I do this. Yes, it is him, but it has just as much to do with me. If I don't fix things, I'll be doomed for eternity! Please, Gerald!" she begged, wringing her hands in desperation.

Gerald sighed, his breath shaky. His face wore the expression of doubt and intense worry, but he hesitantly agreed, despite that fact. "Okay, Lydia." he swallowed, taking the map from her. "I'll help."

* * *

Beetle coughed, wiping a hand over his grimy forehead. "The fuck am I doin' here?" he wrinkled up his face in confusion, seeing nothing but strange, black waves lapping at the shores around him. The sky was purple and red with the coming of dusk, and he was stranded, alone and still without his precious powers. There was no telling what his scorned wife had in store for him. He figured she was most likely keeping his ass in one place until she notified the fuzz of his whereabouts.

"Double-crossin' little wench..." he muttered bitterly, too weak to even juice himself a smoke. "Remind me never to to get married again." he growled, his voice thick with resentment. The nerve of that little hag! All he wanted was to be hitched to her, since he'd had no more of a choice in the matter, and not only had she tap danced on his balls all along the road to their blessed union, she ultimately decided to have him euthanized as well!

"No wonder I never trusted women." he groaned, standing on shaky legs and walking along the shore, his hands in his pockets.

Beetlejuice knew he was a shitty poltergeist to be married to, but hell, he'd actually tried with Lydia. He tried hard, too. And what did it get him? A one way ticket out of existence, in the end. He'd been such a terrible asshole in the past that she'd never been truly able to get over it, especially since every asshat she'd come across tried to talk her out of being with him.

Maybe he was too much, even for the likes of someone like Lydia Juice. Of course, he wasn't going to feel sorry for himself over it. No. He'd gladly misdirect his rage at whoever he felt like, and call it a day. So far, he felt like raging at Lydia, so that was just what he'd do. It was her fault for putting the ring on, her fault for being a wishy-washy, fence-sitting little optimist, and it was her fault he was going to be turned into a big blob of ectoplasmic shit! "Yeah, thats better." he straightened himself, refusing to succumb to soft, weepy feelings about his fate.

He was alone, but hell, he'd been alone for centuries. "The B-man don't need nobody else, anyways." he proclaimed, straightening his dirty, striped jacket. He then looked about himself, feeling leary of his surroundings. "A' course, the B-man could use a little hidin' spot right about now..." he said, his eyes locking on the jungle in the distance.

* * *

Lydia watched with baited breath, as Gerald scratched his chin, eyeing the map he'd tacked to the wall of his study, magnifying glass in hand. "This is truly remarkable..." he spoke, seeming in awe of the strange, cryptic symbols on the map. "It has the standard longitude and latitude that the maps of the living have, yet there are additional symbols. It looks as if there are two extra sets of coordinates that are used in the afterlife..." he mused, taking his pen out of his shirt pocket and scribbling the extra two confusing symbols on a notepad. "Hmmm..."

"So, what does that mean?" Lydia asked, stepping over his shoulder as he began to jot down notes and scribbles at his desk, though Gerald was far too into his work to notice.

An uneasy silence fell over his study, as Lydia looked away, feeling that sinking and hopeless feeling trickle back inside of her. What if Gerald couldn't help her? What if she truly was too late to right the situation in any way? Would she have to to help Beetlejuice hide from the authorities for the rest of eternity? Or would she simply have to avoid him forever? Was he truly doomed to be exorcised for good? If so, she'd be doomed to regret these moments for all of eternity. Lydia sighed, her breath shaky from her highly troubled state of mind.

"Ah-ha!" Gerald exclaimed, snapping his finger as he scribbled down a final note to himself, before standing and quickly searching through his book collection. He stopped his finger on the spine of his copy of the Handbook for the Recently Deceased. He quickly opened the booked, and flipped through the pages, stopping when he found what he'd apparently been searching for. "I think I know what these mean..."

"What is it?!" Lydia gasped, stepping up to the book and hoping against hope that she still had a shot at fixing her afterlife.

"It reads a bit like a textbook, but right here it explains that there are different planes of existence in the afterlife. The Neitherworld is a sort of Limbo-like area, neither remarkably good, nor bad like a punishment. There is the Corporeal plane, and that is where we are now, and how I'm able to 'haunt' my area here, which is that of the living. There's also the Metaphysical plane, which is supposedly how ghosts travel and use their will in various planes. In living humans, it's merely thought and mind. Then there are various other planes, specific to belief systems and such, like Paradise and Torment, etcetera. The handbook says that the Metaphysical realm is the base for all other realms. It is the base number plane from which everything else forms." he explained, his eyes tracing over the words.

"What does all that mean?" Lydia questioned impatiently, wondering just where he was going with all that information.

"Good question, Lydia. I believe these strange symbols are actually directions. If you notice there are only two of them - a circular symbol and a cryptic line. Each one has a number beside it. I'm not exactly sure, but I believe that one means 'higher' and the other means 'lower'. If you notice, the longitude and latitude change respectively, but the symbols on the grid have the same value, each a base of zero. That tells me that it's quite possibly an area on the Metaphysical plane, which is the base plane. Neither up or down any level, but in the middle of all existence, or zero." he continued, pointing to the strange coordinates on her map.

"So I need to go _there_..." Lydia mused aloud, staring at the map intently.

"I'm not sure you can go there just from normal travel. How did you get the map from this place?" he questioned.

"I sort of traveled there with my mind. It's a thing I can do." Lydia replied. "But I need to get close, or...Something bad could happen to me..."she trailed off. "It was painful enough just finding this from so far away."

"Well, if you must..." Gerald sighed, taking a blank piece of paper and drawing an "X" in the middle of it. "Pretend that the Neitherworld is this whole sheet of paper. According to the coordinates, this 'X' is where you'll need to stand when you travel into that plane. But, do be careful, Lydia. Everytime I see you, your behaving more erratic and things are worse than the last time. I'm afraid that whatever mess Beetle has conjured up may bring you down with him in the end. Are you sure you have to do this, given its risky nature?"

"Yes, I'm positive. It's the only thing I think I can do. I don't know any other way." Lydia admitted, trying her best to cover up her fear of the unknown.

Gerald looked to her, his eyes deep with concern. "Are you sure you can't tell me what you're doing? Maybe someone should know."

"I'm sorry, Gerald. I can't." Lydia swallowed, fighting back the urge to give in to her desperate and fearful emotions.

He nodded, hanging his head in defeat. "Alright, Lydia." He stepped up to her grabbing her hand and cupping it in his own. "I know that if you say it's important, then you mean it. Just, please don't get yourself in too much trouble. I want to see you visit under better circumstances next time. And, _please,_ let there be a next time."

"Thanks, Gerald. You're a good friend. I'm sorry I can't repay you for all you've done..." she smiled sadly, before slipping out of his reach, dissipating in thin air before he could find a way to talk her out of it.


	26. The Beginning of the End

Chapter 26: The Beginning of the End

Lydia found herself in the woods, outside of a small town right in the middle of the Neitherworld. It only took her mere moments to make it there, but she quickly reminded herself, that she'd only finished the easy part. The rest would be difficult, risky, and would require all of the power, both hers and Beetle's, that she could muster. It was enough to turn her stomach, quite honestly.

She stepped through some bushes, and eyed a stump in a small clearing. "Perfect." she proclaimed, stepping up to the moss-covered remnant of what was once a gigantic, twisting tree and taking a deep breath. She seated herself on it, sitting not unlike a Buddhist monk in a contemplative pose of meditation, exhaling and closing her eyes.

At first, even visualizing was hard to muster. She found herself fighting back her thoughts and emotions, both fear and anger, before finally settling into the stillness of her mind. Lydia attempted to remind herself that there was still hope, and that there was a chance she hadn't doomed them both to an afterlife of neverending chaos and conflict.

Finally, she gave in to the sound of wind and the strange creatures in the forest around her, and she fell inside of herself. She stood in the pitch-black of her mind, feeling the static of her power in her undead veins as she readied herself for the task at hand.

The gigantic supercomputer, with its thousands of switches and levers entered her conscious thought, and the long corridors and various clearances that led to it. See could see the complex in the barren desert, alone and high above herself. Lydia focused hard, feeling herself begin to levitate higher and higher above her undead body.

Stars and writhing clouds, and strange colored heavens twisted about her as she felt the power inside herself crackle a bit more. Suddenly, she gasped, as she hit a barrier above herself. It was clear and warm and it felt smooth like glass. She strained her mind, pushing harder and harder, much harder than she'd ever pushed against the mirror to her old room.

Eventually, her hands passed through in a burst of bright, soundless light. She gasped, before gaining her bearings and pulling the rest of herself through the clear ceiling, where she now stood, high into the multiverse.

She could feel herself drawing near the compound, as she walked ahead in the distance, where it began to appear like a mirage in the desert, among a multitude of shooting stars and strange galaxies.

Lydia braced herself, getting closer and feeling a strange heat inside of her. After what seemed like a lifetime of traveling by foot, she stood at the security gate, noting that the guards weren't able to see her. Perhaps they were there in a different form, as she was only traveling by way of her consciousness. She touched the gate, pleasantly surprised when her hand travelled through it, without a hitch. At least something was going right, for once.

She stepped on through, making her way past the desert sands and up the steps until she stood at the huge, double door entrance. She exhaled, reaching out and noting that her hand passed through that as well. _Good._ Lydia smiled, beginning to feel her hopes rise with every step. She remembered most of the twists and turns, and what she forgot, she simply used her power to lead her along the way. Everything went as smoothly as possible. Even the security staff had been distracted today. Lydia figured out why when she noticed a sign that read "Donut Friday", as she passed by an employee lounge.

Finally, after passing through multiple clearance levels, she stepped into the most gigantic room she'd ever seen in her life or afterlife. The enormous computer stood at least five stories tall, with multiple levels of the gargantuan building circling around the beastly machine.

Lydia cleared her throat nervously, before stepping onto a long, narrow platform that led to a maintenance area on the machine. "I guess this is it..." she whispered to herself, placing her translucent, wispy hand on the warm, humming metal and closing her eyes.

* * *

Beetlejuice stood at the entrance of a dark, ominous cave, scratching his chin stubble and pondering to himself. "Nah, too obvious. That's the first place those shit eaters would look." he grumbled, limping past the ex-potential hiding spot and searching for the next one.

He eyed a giant pile of brush, noting that he could dive in it and hide, given that some four-eyed, ten-legged fuck of a monster wasn't waiting inside to slurp out his innards. "Eh...better pass on that..."

He limped a few more steps, kicking a rock in frustration, when something strange happened. "The fuck?" he looked about himself, noting a strange, electric hum in the air. He knew she wasn't stupid enough to say his name three more times and return his powers, so he couldn't quite figure out what was causing the strange, abnormal shift in the air.

"Fuck!" What if it was the cops?! Maybe they were fixing to teleport there and take his ass off! In complete panic, he hobbled as quickly as possible, diving into a hole and beginning to cover himself with sand.

* * *

Lydia sat on the mossy stump, her face wrinkled in strain. It was already becoming painful to exert so much energy during her travels, but she gritted her teeth and proceeded forward, knowing she'd come too far to stop now.

High up in the other plane, Lydia's higher self closed her eyes, seeing flashes of strange numbers and binary that didn't quite make any sense at first. However, she allowed herself to slip into the mind of the machine, relying on the strange, ancient powers she held to guide her along. Pretty soon the beeps and codes began to shift, taking form in her mind as words and voices, spoken and unspoken. Documents and events flashed through her mind, though they were of complete strangers.

She knew she needed to focus on Beetlejuice, and on herself. She felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her mind, as images of his former incarcerations passed through her consciousness. Pretty soon, she traced the trail of memory back, and even farther back. It had stretched a long way, and before she knew it, she was standing inside a room. It was circular and warm, and all around her was a spherical screen, engulfing her inside of it. On the black screen, was his name, and his files, one by one, listed.

Lydia braced herself, before holding out her hand and focusing even harder than she already was. One by one, the files of his criminal record began to disappear, with the word "deleted", replacing each one. The process was painstakingly slow at first, but once she began, she somehow began to gain momentum, and the files began to disappear with lightening speed.

The feeling that Lydia had while wiping the memories away was one that was simply unexplainable. If a being could become one with the universe, then it very well may have felt the way Lydia was currently feeling. She began to relive certain moments in flashes, seeing what the computer saw, as each file flickered through time, space, and her consciousness. She saw Beetlejuice get arrested for driving under the influence, totalling an old car he used to own, she saw herself in that gawdy red wedding dress, and she saw the cops send him away for ten years after they married.

Every glimpse, ended with a flash of the word "deleted" in her consciousness, and with every delete, a sharp, throbbing pain began to form inside of her. She found the word "Betelgeuse" in all it's variations and forms perhaps over a million times. Her name was included in many of the files, and was also erased from the digital threads of existence.

Her body began to grow weary, as she neared the end of that list, only to find a whole series of backup government files she had to travel through. "OUCH!" she yelped, falling to one knee and holding her throbbing head. "No...I can't stop now..."


	27. What the?

Chapter 27: What the?

Beetlejuice had almost covered himself completely with sand, when he felt another crackle in the air. "SHIT!" he yelped, dumping a big pile of sand on his face and sucking his arms in, and hoping to not look suspicious when the cops ultimately arrived.

Of course, after what seemed like hours of laying in sand like a jackass, he began to ponder just what was going on. "Errr..." he grumbled, raising up and spitting sand out of his mouth. "What gives?"

He knew that if the authorities were going to catch him, they would have been there long ago. He also realized that Lydia couldn't magically warp him back to said authorities, due to the fact that saying his name three times would only grant him his awesome powers back. Truth was, he had no idea what was going on, and it was pretty fucking unnerving.

Beetle stood, knocking sand off himself and looking about. No one was there. Just him and quite possibly a hidden tribe of undead cannibals or something.

"What the...?" his face wrinkled in confusion, as the ring on his finger began to glow, with small sparks of static emanating from it. "The hell is that crazy woman doin?"

* * *

"Ack!" Lydia gasped, pressing her mind forward, as her consciousness traveled onward, rapid-fire deleting government file after damning government file. She clinched her fists in pain, approaching the halfway point. When she hit it, she paused for a moment, gasping for air.

On her secluded spot in the forest, she did the same, sweat pouring from her undead body and sharp, prodding sensations radiating througout her. This task was clearly taking its toll on her very being, and though she felt the dire need to stop, she pushed forward regardless.

"O-okay...focus..." she said, her voice raspy and her breath shaky.

In a final, sharp and nearly unbearable jolt of pain, her mind began to travel at warp speed, seeing flashes of Beetle and herself. She saw him hauled away drunk from bars, getting in fights with angry pimps, passing out on sidewalks, and thrown in jail time and time again. She witnessed his embezzling of powers, finding the book, and going to court time and again. Lydia saw the first time they met, when she was just a girl, and how she told him she'd wanted in where he was.

"Why?" he had asked her, baffled. The look on his face had been so peculiar.

Lydia began to feel faint, as everything began to spiral around her. "DELETED. FILE ONE MILLION ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED DELETED. FILE ONE MILLION ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED AND ONE DELETED." The computer voice spoke so fast that she could barely keep up.

She began to writhe in pain, falling on her back in the floor, now fighting to simply remain conscious. Her memories began to mix with the computer, and she began to get confused, shaking her head and trying to stay awake. She was now flying down a green, bright tunnel of wires and circuits now, at break-neck speeds, until she saw what could only be described as a giant hard drive. It was a dead end, and though she tried with all her might to slow down, she hit the giant hardware with a loud, explosive thud.

"TASK COMPLETE. ALL EXISTING AND BACKUP FILES DELETED FROM DATABASE. PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE."

Lydia heard the final message, before falling out of her current location in time and space. It seemed like an eternity, as she flashed in and out of consciousness, plummeting at break-neck speeds. Finally, Lydia landed inside herself with a dull, heavy thud. She rolled off of her stump and onto the ground, feeling as if she'd disintegrate at any moment. She rolled onto her back, clutching herself and gasping for air. The pain was almost too much to bear, as she whimpered to herself, knowing that she still had one small task to complete.

"B...Betelgeuse..." she coughed violently and gasped. "...Betelgeuse..."

* * *

Beetlejuice stared at his hands, his eyes wild and feral, as a wide grin began to form on his grimy lips. "Ohhhh yeeeahhh...I dunno what dumb shit yer doin', Babe, but _do_ keep it up." he cackled, feeling electricity begin to crackle and snap around him again.

He had no idea what was going on, but Lydia Juice had no reason whatsoever to be calling his name. The only thing he could figure was that she'd fallen asleep and began mumbling his name. Either way, it was working, and soon he'd be back to seek his vengeance on the little twit for ruining his life. If she'd doomed him, he'd make sure she paid first!

Before he knew it, he was standing tall, smugly enjoying the return of his power, though it felt strangely weak at the moment. Regardless, he juiced a shot of whiskey in his hand and threw it back. "Ahhhhh. Now that's what I'm talkin' bout!" he celebrated, throwing the shotglass to the side and rubbing his grungy hands together. "Now, I need to get outta here and find that little twat!"

* * *

Beetle had searched in every place he could rack his brain to think of, but he found hide nor hair of one Lydia Juice. At first what had merely been an annoyance had turned into something strange and unsettling, even to the likes of him.

When he disguised himself and came back to the Roadhouse, she was gone, along with all traces of herself, and his book, of all things. He couldn't sense her fear, feel her anger, and he couldn't even feel her presence in the Neitherworld at this point.

He currently sat at bar at the far side of the Neitherworld, where he wasn't known to be a regular. He pulled his hat down, shading his ominous features as he pulled the collar of his dusty old jacket up to hide even more of himself. Strangely enough, the ghouls around him seemed to pay him little mind. Maybe it was the change in wardrobe, he figured, though he only half believed it himself.

Any other time, he'd have to completely shapeshift to throw everyone off. Now he just changed his clothes and everyone was leaving him be. Something was off. Like way, _way_ fuckin' off.

Beetle sighed, drinking his beer and mindlessly watching a large television that was mounted overhead for the patrons to view. As much as he detested the news, he stared at the screen, for lack of having anything better to do, and fumbled with the lid of his beer in his boredom.

"NEARLY TWO WEEKS AGO, A MYSTERIOUS YOUNG WOMAN WAS FOUND LAYING UNCONSCIOUS JUST OUTSIDE OF A FOREST IN THE NEARBY COMMUNITY OF HEADSPLIT. POLICE HAVE YET TO IDENTIFY THE WANDERER. THE UNKNOWN FEMALE WAS TAKEN INTO THE NEITHERWORLD HOSPITAL FOR THE DEATHLY ILL THE MORNING OF HER DISCOVERY, WHERE SHE HAS YET TO REGAIN CONSCIOUSNESS. IF ANYONE SHOULD HAVE ANY INFORMATION ON THE IDENTITY OF THIS PERSON, PLEASE CONTACT THE APPROPRIATE AUTHORITIES" a strawberry blonde woman in a suit wearing an eyepatch spoke, as a picture of none other than his wife flashed across the screen, causing him to nearly spew his beer in the bartender's face.

"Holy tits..." he muttered his eyes wide. "The hell did she do?"

"IN OTHER NEWS, THE MEMORY OVERHAUL OF THE NEITHERWORLD'S MOST POWERFUL SUPERCOMPUTER SEEMS TO NEED AN OVERHAUL OF ITS OWN. COULD MILLIONS OF GOVERNMENT PRISON RECORDS BE LOST DUE TO A FAULTY HARDWARE INSTALLATION? MORE ON THIS STORY ON OUR NIGHTLY NEWS." the woman continued, as Beetle's eyes narrowed.

"No way...There's no way in hell..." he shook his head in disbelief, before jumping up and starting to walk out of the bar.

"Sir, you need to pay for that!" the bartender yelled through wrinkly lips, catching Beetle's attention.

Beetlejuice scowled and grunted to himself, pulling some dough from his pocket and slamming it on the table. "Keep the change."


	28. Saved

Chapter 28: Saved

Beetle was leaving the bar and heading to the hospital, when he was stopped by an apparition who formed in a cloud of thick, tar-like smoke. He was met with a scowl of a thousand ugly wrinkles and a big, gaping neckhole to greet him.

"Juno, baby! Long time, no see!" he stepped back, throwing his hands up and hoping she wasn't going to call the cops, considering his recent bad behavior.

"Juice, you're coming with me. Now!" she snapped, pointing a cigarette in his face.

"This isn't concerning that little 'E' word is it, cause if it is, I'll blow us both to Satan's asshole before I let ya drag me to that!" he warned, crossing his arms in defiance.

"No, Juice. If that was the case, I wouldn't be seen talking with your ass! Now, come with me. It's about Lydia."

"Fine...But you better not be lyin'..." he grumbled, before the two dissipated in thin air.

* * *

Beetle arrived in Juno's office, across from her strangely empty desk. "The hell happened here? Didn't you use to have paperwork up to an elephant's asshole?"

Juno ignored him, pacing about the room, and checking her doors to make sure they were locked. She then pulled down the blinds over her windows before seating herself across from him and speaking. "Yes, and most of it belonged to _you_ , Juice. Lydia, too, to a much lesser extent. Even my own dealings with you are no longer in existence." she spoke, with an air of disbelief about her.

"So, what're ya sayin'?" he raised an eyebrow, as he grabbed her pack of cigarettes from her desk and stole one.

Juno sighed, grabbing and pulling the pack to her once more, then pulling out a smoke of her own and lighting it. "I've been running over things for a couple of weeks now. The cops have dropped everything, including other cases that have nothing to do with us, due to accidental deletion. It would be impossible to get back what the computer doesn't have. The technology to recover it doesn't exist yet, and it would cost more money than the government can fathom."

"So yer tellin' me I'm off the hook?" He asked, nearly at a loss for words.

"We all are, apparently." She shook her head, inhaling her smoke with a baffled look on her face. "I was the one who gave Lydia the information about your name. I thought she'd use it to banish you for good."

"Ain't that fuckin' sweet of ya?" Beetle shot her his best _fuck you, wrinklebag_ look.

"I had no choice at the time. You'd gone too far, you dope! And you know it!" she scowled at him, reprimanding him like she always did, _the sweetheart._

"So, she deleted our shit?" Beetlejuice asked, blowing smoke in her face as he spoke just for the fun of it.

Juno glared at him, waving his smoke out of the way. "I have reason to believe she did. After she gained your power, I lost the ability to monitor her whereabouts. I'm almost certain she figured out what to do. They found her right under the location of the government's digital file system, completely drained and unconscious. She nearly erased her whole self from existence doing what she did. She's lucky to still be here."

Beetle inhaled his cigarette deeply, shaking his head as he flicked ashes in her tray for once instead of on the desk. Or the floor. "She really saved our asses, didn't she?" Man, he was back to feeling like a massive piece of shit right now. After all the scummy things he'd done, she still saved his ass, and nearly did herself in, to boot.

"Yes. We are indebted to her now, so we need to watch over her. I don't know why she did it. We were already off the hook. She had to be worried about you, Juice. That's the only motivation I can find. That level of benevolence doesn't usually end up in the Neitherworld." Juno admitted.

"Yeah, pretty sure I'm the reason she didn't go to Paradise or whatever. My curse held her back." Beetle sighed, scratching his head and fidgeting about. He wasn't good with guilty feelings already, and he was even worse with guilty feelings in front of his enemy-slash-caseworker.

"No doubt, it did, Juice. But it's over now. You need to take care of her now. Wait for her to wake up before you leave, anyway." she stated, confusing Beetle.

"Huh? Leave?" his face scrunched up in confusion. "We're still married, ain't we?"

"Yes, I'm afraid. That's part of the curse, and the curse is permanently binding. What I'm talking about is your summons." she clarified, which really didn't clarify anything. He was still pretty damned confused.

"Summons? The fuck?! I thought you said I was off the hook!" he spat, hitting his fist on her desk.

"It's not a court summons, you pea brain! The system sent out summons requests to over ten thousand ghosts in the afterlife to agree to acsension due to finished business. Lydia was the first to get hers. It came the moment she did what she did. She's probably the only one of us that was supposed to actually ascend. Yours and mine will be here within the next month." she stated, smirking.

"You mean their sending our asses to _Paradise_?! Are ya kiddin' me?" he began to cackle, slapping her desk and causing her coffee to spill out. "That's fuckin' rich!"

"You can thank Lydia for that. I know I will. I'm tired of this civil servant crap! It's about time I get a vacation." Juno smirked, taking a drag from her smoke.

"Oh, hell yeah, Juny Baby!" Beetle jumped up, grabbing her around the waist and dancing around with her, much to her distate. "Paradise...Yeah..." he mused, wearing a wicked grin. "Tropical beaches, martinis, hot chicks in tiny little bikinis..."

"You're married, you buffoon!" she scolded, slapping him on the back of his head.

"Oh, yeah. I was gettin' away with mahself..." he laughed, feeling like a kicked dog. Regardless, he was a free mutt, and he had Lydia Juice to thank for it. Thinking of her, he sighed, scratching his head and feeling like a dickwad again. "Heya, I'm gonna go see her. Guess the least I can do is make sure she ain't alone." he muttered, before pausing. "She _is_ gonna wake up, ain't she?"

Juno sighed, blowing smoke everywhere. "I certainly hope so, Juice."


	29. Waiting

Chapter 29: Waiting

It had taken a whole day of answering the cops questions with a paranoid look on his face, before Beetlejuice was finally able to go visit his no longer unidentified wife in the hospital. He walked down the dark, checkered hallway, shaking his head in disbelief. Just a couple of weeks ago he was the most wanted fugitive in the afterlife, and now, thanks to Lydia, he was just your average undead citizen again. _"Un-be-fuckin-lievable..."_ he said to himself under his breath.

Strangely enough, he was extremely nervous, though he wouldn't dare admit it, not even to himself. He found himself wondering just how Lydia looked. Was she sickly and even more pale than normal? Would the afterlife that had nearly drained out of her be apparent, or would she look like her old self?

He felt himself slowing down with the heaviness of dread filling his undead form. He stared at his dirty boots, hands shoved in his pockets, feeling the urge to turn around and slip out so he wouldn't have to face her. Of course, not facing things of that nature was for pussies, and he didn't want to be a pussy on top of being an unforgivable dickhole.

He counted the room numbers as he passed by them, and much to both his relief and dismay, he came across room number one hundred and thirteen. He stopped, scratching the back of his head and stalling. "Fuck it...Ya gotta do this..." he muttered, before stepping in.

He stood a moment, hearing the faint hum of machines and apparatuses all about, and not really wanting to look at her. Of course, he ultimately forced himself to, and he felt like a damned monster when he did.

"Jesus, Lydia..." he sighed, running a dirty hand over his face as he seated himself beside her.

His green eyes moved over her, noting that she had strange iv bags running into her with green, oozy liquid inside of them. He had no idea what the hell that did to help her, and he had even less of an idea what damage she'd done to harm herself in such a way. She really didn't look very bad, much to his relief. What was he thinking, she never looked bad. Like ever. She just seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

He pulled his seat closer to her, leaning over the railing. "You really are a piece a' work, ya know that?" he smirked, his feelings all mixed up and polarizing. He felt equal parts eternally grateful and raging guilty moron. More than that, he felt like somehow that crazy little former goth chick that he once played charades with in the land of the living had changed his afterlife forever.

"I always told ya you were too nice fer yer own good..." he sighed, placing his hand on hers and holding it. "You better come out a' this, Mrs. Juice. I gotta one way ticket ta Paradise, and I ain't leavin' without yer ass, so you'd better not keep me waitin'." he warned playfully, though it was all a ruse to make himself feel a bit better.

Truthfully, he was fucking terrified.

* * *

Minutes turned into hours, and those turned into days, which passed into weeks, and still nothing had changed.

The faint orange glow of morning seeped through the room window, hitting Beetle's eyes and causing him to startle awake. "Ugh..." he stretched, turning to Lydia, who still lay on the hospital bed, sleeping.

"Heya, it's mornin', Babe. Want some breakfast? A coffee? To fuckin' wake up for once?" he asked, feeling irritated and somewhat hopeless. "Nah? Didn't think so..." he scowled, staring out the window.

It was at that moment, that Juno knocked on the open room door, causing Beetle to startle.

"Ah, fuck, it's just you..." he grumbled.

"Nice to see you, too, Juice." Juno sighed sarcastically, stepping into the room with some papers in one hand and a suitcase in the other. "Here are the forms I told you about. I'll be turning mine in today. Now, you're sure you want me to go ahead?" Juno asked, raising an eyebrow as she glanced briefly to Lydia.

"Yeah...Won't do her any good either way, Junes. I'll wait." he replied, folding his arms across his chest and gazing out the window again.

"She really has changed you." Juno looked him over, smirking. "I never thought that was possible. You really do care for her, don't you?"

"Eh...Just don't go tellin' everyone about it." a faint smile traced his mossy lips as she stepped over and handed the summons papers to him.

"Don't worry about a time limit, Juice. The expiration date is indefinite." she said, before pausing and turning to Lydia. "When she wakes, tell her I owe her a thousand martinis."

"Will do." Beetle nodded. "I hope." he added.

"They said she's in stable condition. It's bound to happen sooner or later, Juice." she nodded, before turning and stepping back into the doorway. She turned one last time, "Just don't go getting into anymore trouble. Wouldn't want them to revoke that."

"Yeah, yeah...See ya in the funny papers." he grinned, watching her step out the door for the last time.

* * *

It was the dead of night and Beetlejuice sat slumped in his chair, ready to slide out of it and lay in the floor just for the hell of it. He sighed, turning to Lydia, who was still sleeping deeply, looking like a pale angel under the dim green glow of the hospital equipment.

She didn't deserve this. Maybe he did, but not her. He was the one who started everything. He made that shitty bargain with her when she was too young and too naive, and his shitty behavior resulted in even shittier penalties against her once she'd bit the dust. Without him, she'd have never had to go through all that crazy marital angst that ultimately happened. Hell, she wouldn't have ever put that ring on if he hadn't tried to manipulate her and keep her around for so long in the first place. Worst of all, he was the one that told her to fix shit, no matter what. It was his fault that she was in there, and that made him feel like a bastard. In fact, he felt like so much of a bastard, that he needed to leave the room and quit bastarding up the place.

"Babe, I'm goin' out. I gotta get some fresh air. I'll be back." he told her, running his finger over her cheek. He stood up, pulling on his jacket. "Like she fuckin' hears me..." he scoffed at himself, before leaving to go outside and have a smoke.

* * *

Beetle stood propped against the outside of the hospital, sucking on a cigarette and watching the smoke trail into the night sky. It was fucking lonely as hell without Lydia's company, and he was beginning to actually feel despair, and he was not good with despair, like, ever.

Despair drove him to drink and fight and bang ugly hookers, and he wasn't about to do the latter two. He did decide, however, that a drink wouldn't hurt him, so he flicked his cigarette away and shoved his hands in his pockets and walked toward the place he'd first met her in the afterlife.

* * *

He walked past the crowds of people loitering outside, remembering how he used to get wasted at the Redrum, night after night, getting slapped by women and refusing to foot the bill time and again. It was sort of okay while he was single, but once he'd set his sights on that pretty, raven haired piano girl, he'd never really felt the same. This time around, he'd just settle on drowning his sorrows.

He pushed the door open and stepped up to the bar, plopping unceremoniously on a barstool and pulling a cigar from his pocket. He inhaled it deeply, as an old woman approached him from behind the counter.

She shot him a leary glance, before speaking. "What'll it be?"

"Eh, I'll take a beer." he grumbled, resting his mossy chin on his fist and showing his general apathy in his voice.

The old lady, passed him a beer, and he popped the top of it, as a young, blonde woman covered in bee stings sat down beside him.

"Hey there stranger. Care to buy me a beer?" the woman asked him, with a sly grin on her swelled face.

Beetle didn't so much as glance at her. "This ain't no charity, Toots. Ask someone else." he said flatly, playing with the cap of his beer bottle.

"Asshole..." the woman got up and walked away, obviously offended.

He glanced up, noticing the old lady was watching him. "What?" he shrugged. "I'm gonna pay the tab, okay? Geez, ya don't have to stare at me like that..."

"It's not that." She shook her head. "You've changed. You're still Lydia's husband, aren't you?"

"And? What's it to ya?!" he growled. "Can't a dead guy get a drink around this joint without bein' interrogated?"

"I heard what happened to her." she said solemnly.

"Yeah, well don't go thinkin' I had somethin' to do with it. Don't want ya gettin' the urge to start chattin' up the cops again, Franny!" he glared up at her, taking a drink of his beer.

The old woman sighed. "Well, you won't have to worry about me anymore. As much as I'd like to think otherwise, I don't believe you'd be staying with her night and day if you'd done something to her. I've seen you run from the law enough to know that isn't your style." She glared back at him, placing a hand on her hip.

"Heh. Somebody pinch my ass. I must be dreamin'. Someone actually believes me fer once." he scoffed.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I did it. I was only looking out for Lydia. She's such a sweet girl..." Fran trailed off, grabbing a beer out of her supply.

"Yeah, well...Guess I didn't give anyone reason to think otherwise. Heh. Bein' a ragin' asshat for six centuries makes the reputation a teensy bit hard to fix." he shrugged, finishing off his beer.

"Well, you've apparently proven that it's possible." Fran remarked, sliding another beer his way. "Here. This one's on the house."

"Thanks, Methusula." he grinned deviously, popping the top off his free beer and causing the old woman to smirk and roll her eyes.

Just when he'd turned his beer up and began to chug it, he felt a warm sensation on his left hand, particularly his finger - his _ring_ finger. He froze, loweing his drink and gazing at his ring. It was warm and glowing.

"What the-" he began, only to be interrupted by a small, faint voice in his mind.

 _B-BJ? Are you there?_

"Shit...Shit! SHIT!" his green eyes grew wide, as she held his hand up, gawking at the glowing ring on his finger "Shit, it's her! I gotta go!" Beetle started to jet out the door, but quickly turned to Fran and threw a wad of money at her. "Here! Keep the change, granny!"

 _BJ? Where are you?_

"Babe, I'm comin' fer ya!" he yelled sprinting into a green cloud of smoke.


	30. Awake

Chapter 30: Awake

Beetlejuice came crashing through the door to Lydia's room, gasping for breath as he locked eyes with her.

Lydia smiled weakly, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "You're okay. I-it worked..."

"Holy shit..." he muttered under his breath, quickly stepping up to the side of her bed. "Don't worry about my ass." he spat, looking her over as he ran his hand through her hair.

"BJ, what's wrong? You act like I have two heads or something." she grinned, appearing confused.

"I'll tell ya what's wrong, Mrs. Juice. Ya nearly died _again_ tryin' to save our asses, so yeah, I'm actin' a little weird. Sue me!" he replied.

"Died?" Lydia's expression told that she was shocked to hear such a thing. "So...how long have I been out?"

"Quite a while...I thought you was never gonna wake up." he admitted, letting his guard down a bit. "I owe ya, Babe. You didn't have to save my ass, but ya did. Hell, I'll never be able to make it up to ya."

"Did it clear you up?" Lydia's eyebrows raised, as she rubbed her arm anxiously, awaiting his reply.

"Every bit of my record is gone. MIA. Finito." he grinned, rubbing her back. "I'm a free ghoul, Babe. And so is that ex-case worker of ours."

"Juno?" Lydia asked.

"Yup. And about ten thousand other dipshits along with her!" Beetle cackled, still finding it hard to believe that such a turn of events had transpired.

"So...Are we still married, or did I erase that, too?" Lydia asked, an oddly concerned look falling over her features.

"Babe, I don't think you should care about that anymore. I ain't gonna hold you to that shit. It was wrong of me to do that in the first damned place." he shook his head, feeling like a prick again when he thought of what a ballbag he'd been to her. "But, fer what it's worth, yeah, we're technically espoused forever." he shrugged, rubbing the back of his head.

Lydia paused a moment, before changing the subject, which caused Beetle to feel slightly strange. "I'm glad they didn't exorcise you, BJ. I should've believed you. I really wasn't trying to murder you...on _purpose_ , anyway."

"Don't worry about it, Babe. I was the shit who lied to ya all the time. Why would ya believe me? Look, you've done more than enough, so it's all good." he chuckled, holding up his hands. She smiled warmly at him, and he damn near thought he'd melt into a puddle of goo.

"Heh," he laughed nervously, straightening his brown jacket and seating himself beside her once more. "Maybe now that yer awake, they'll discharge ya soon. Then I, uh, gotta tell ya some things."

* * *

Beetle opened the front door to the Roadhouse, holding it open as Lydia stepped through. He followed behind her, guarding the acsension forms hidden under his jacket.

"It's just so weird how it happened all of a sudden." Lydia mused, holding her hand up and studying her newly glowing self.

It did happen all of a sudden, and Beetle easily figured out why. He'd always said she was probably an angel, and now he was technically correct. She should've been in Paradise long, long ago, and now, even without her signature on the form, she was being beckoned. In truth, she probably didn't even need the damned paper, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Yeah...About _that.._." he cleared his throat, uncomfortably.

"What is it? Is this some sort of medical side-effect or something?" she looked to him, her beauty shining more than he'd ever imagined possible.

"Erm...Not exactly." he said, placing an arm around her and sitting her down on the sofa beside of him. He then pulled out her form and handed it over. He watched her read over it, her expression changing from confusion to awe.

"But, what about you?" she asked, and Beetle couldn't help but smirk at her innocent ass.

"Still worried about me, huh? Well, thanks to you, I got one, too." he grinned widely, dangling his paper in the air. "So whaddaya say, Mrs. Juice? You ready to go party in Paradise with me, or what?"

"Well, yeah, of course...I just never expected to go there." she chuckled, seeming amazed by the possibility.

"I don't know how the hell you honestly say things like that an' believe 'em. I already told ya yer perfect. If you ain't goin' to the good place, ain't none of us goin." he pulled out a pen, quickly seizing the moment and scribbling his name on the consent form. "And, uh, just so ya know, we don't have to play married up there either, if ya don't wanna. Our records are gone, so nobody technically knows about us anymore. Yer young and hot and shit. You can find ya someone that don't look all gross an' old like me, an' I won't say a damned word, if ya don't want me to." he admitted, albeit painfully, handing her the pen. Of course he'd rather be with her for all eternity, but she saved him and included a free eternal stay in Paradise, so he figured it was the least he could do.

"Oh." Lydia said softly, taking the pen from him and signing her name on her copy as well. It wasn't an agreement or any sort of rejection, so Beetle didn't know how to take her. However, she'd seen enough shit from him lately, so he simply let it be. "So when do we turn these in?"

* * *

It was the night before their departure, and Beetle sat on his old recliner, taking a drag off a cuban cigar, while watching Lydia pace about, wringing her hands nervously.

"What's wrong, Babe?" he asked, causing her to stop in her tracks.

"It's Gerald. I've been putting it off because I'm terrible with goodbyes, but I need to visit him before we go." she admitted, as Beetle fought long and hard not to say anything particularly mean about the little fat dweeb. "It's the least I can do, after all he's done for us..."

"Er...What did he do?" Beetle asked, trying his hardest not to be a prick or a smartass, even though the urge was great. _Very_ great.

"He helped me find the computer. Without him, I couldn't have saved you." she smiled, her strange glow causing Beetle to feel all gushy inside again, though he didn't let on about it.

"In that case, ya better go see him..." Beetle admitted, actually trying to give the fat little nerd some credit. Reluctantly, he added. "Guess I'll stay here an' wait fer ya."

"Actually..." Lydia began, immediately getting Beetlejuice's attention. "I was wondering if you'd come with me?"

Welp, that was new. He shrugged, hiding his distate for the tubby geek. "Sure, why not?"


	31. Paradise Bound

Chapter 31: Paradise Bound

Beetle poofed into Gerald's apartment in a blanket of green fog, where he decided it would be best for him to stay put in his corner and keep his mouth shut, due to the fact that nothing remotely good would probably come out of it. He took a drag from his cigarette, watching Lydia appear in a sparkling silver and golden haze.

She turned to Beetle, her big, bright doe eyes shining. "Come with me, BJ." she said, holding out her dainty, glowing hand.

Beetle sighed. "...Alright..." he took her hand, reluctantly following behind her like the little bitch that he truly was. He did owe it to her, so he simply kept his trap shut for her sake.

Lydia approached his study, knocking softly on the door. "Gerald? Are you in there?"

Slowly, the door opened and Gerald stood with a look of shock on his fat face. Beetle couldn't tell if it was from him being there, or the fact that Lydia was literally a sparkly, walking angel who hadn't quite realized it yet. He reasoned, it was probably a bit of both.

"Lydia...What happened? Are you okay?" he inquired nervously, dabbing at his forehead as he glanced warily at Beetlejuice.

"I'm fine. I've never been better, actually." she replied, placing her hand on Gerald's shoulder and making Beetle want to vomit a little. Gerald must have sensed Beetle's disgust, for he quickly glanced his way again with a brief look of fear lining his features.

"Juno informed me of what you did. I'm glad things worked out for you. I was worried you weren't going to make it through." he admitted.

"Gerald, I can never thank you enough for being such a help to BJ and I...Isn't that right, BJ?" Lydia shot him a look that told him to get his ass over there and play nice, and he forced himself to do just that, if only for her sake.

"Yeah...Thanks fer helpin'..." he grumbled, holding out his hand.

Gerald looked worried, but ultimately shook his hand anyway. "You're...welcome..." Something told Beetle that the nerd was just as unhappy about the handshake situation as he was.

"Before I go, I want you to have this." Lydia pulled Beetle's sacred book out of thin air. "Juno's gone, and I have no one else that I trust with it. Please keep it safe. Should the Neitherworld go all to shit again, maybe you'll be the one to fix it." she smiled, handing Gerald the book, and nearly causing Beetle to call out in protest. However, he behaved like a good boy.

"I'll make sure it stays safe. You have my word." Gerald nodded, clutching the book tightly. Suddenly a somber expression fell over his features. "So, Juno was correct. You really are leaving the Neitherworld, aren't you?"

Lydia nodded, with a sad smile on her face, and as much as Beetle wanted to rush her along, he refrained for once. He let her have her mushy sentimental moment, whether he liked it or not.

"Paradise awaits us, Gerald. We're leaving first thing in the morning." she replied, pulling him in and hugging him tightly.

Beetle sighed, turning his back to them and blowing cigar smoke out his nose with a scowl on his grungy face.

"Mr. Juice." Gerald's voice caught his attention, causing him to whip around as the portly man stepped up to him. "You're a lucky fellow to have Lydia. Please take care of her."

His immediate urge was to tell fatty to go fuck himself with a cactus, but he stifled it. "I will, pal. _Believe me_."

* * *

It was the final morning before their departure, and Lydia packed the last of her few belongings, shutting her suitcase and placing it by the door. "It feels so weird to be leaving the Roadhouse, BJ." she turned to him, her form now sparkling more than ever. She really was heavenly, and whether she was really his wife or not, she was truly special, and she was his in some twisted way, and that alone was good enough.

"Yeah, I'd almost miss it if it wasn't such a shit-filled pit of despair." he grinned, causing her to roll her eyes at him. "I'm just glad we're leavin' this shithole together."

"Me too." she said, fumbling with her dress. "You know, I noticed just last night that the gashes on my thighs aren't there anymore. That's so surreal to me, even if everything here is technically surreal."

 _Must look reeaal nice_ , he thought, grinning slyly. He kept that thought to himself, however. "That it is, Babe. I'm happy fer ya. Too bad I still look like a nasty fucker, though."

"That's right." Lydia said, immediately wincing when she'd noticed her faux pas. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure ya didn't, Babe." Beetle grinned widely, enjoying her moment of embarrassment.

"No!" she rolled her eyes in frustration. "I meant, I don't understand why I'm all glowly and you're not."

"Easy." Beetle remarked. "I'm goin' to Paradise cause of yer little glitch in the matrix, Babe. You're goin' cause you actually _deserve_ it." he shrugged. "Hey, I'll take what I can get, knowhaddimean?"

Lydia smiled. "I'm just glad you're coming along. I don't know if I'd want to go without you, to be honest."

"C'mon, don't say that. You'd do fine without my old, nasty mug. You'd be up there partyin' an' livin' it up with yer girlfriends and shit. An' all the guys would be droolin' over ya, so ya wouldn't be lonely." he spoke honestly, secretly tryin to remind her that she could have her own life now. "You can still do that, ya know. I mean, I'll always be right there, but you can do whatever yer little heart desires, Babe! The sky's the limit!" he encouraged her, partly due to his own intense guilt.

"Oof!" he huffed, as Lydia threw her arms around him and squeezed him tighly. "See, I knew you weren't such a bad guy, after all. Now if only I could convince my family..." she teased.

"Yeah, don't think that's gonna happen, Babe." he grumbled, patting her on the back. "That's why yer last visit to 'em was a solo one. Pretty sure they would'a took a torch to my ass or somethin'."

"Probably." She agreed, laughing. "Yep, the consensus is that they all still hate you, despite my best efforts to explain everything. Oh well, we have forever to wait for them to change their minds."

"Don't hold yer breath, Babe." he snorted, as she released him upon hearing the bus pull up. "Well, here we go, Dollface." he looked down at her, holding out his arm. She tangled her arm inside of his, as the two boarded the bus to Paradise.

* * *

"Damn. I didn't know this ride was gonna take all fuckin' year." Beetlejuice grouched, folding his arms as he glared out the window and into the night sky. "We're not even close to the bridge yet." He sighed through his nose, feeling a strange mixture of impatience and dejection. He knew Paradise would be the party of a lifetime, but he also knew that he'd given Lydia her freedom, and he wasn't sure what that would entail. She hadn't really said much on the matter, and that deeply disturbed him. He didn't know if he could ever remotely feel the same way about another woman. He loved Lydia. He didn't think he could grow to love anyone else that much. Would he be doomed to watch her bang other dudes for all eternity, while he quietly pined over her and jacked off in a sock forever? He sure as shit hoped not.

Of course, if he did have to pine away and start calling his lefty by a stripper name, he knew he'd be perfectly deserving of that fate. Lydia was a good person, and he was a nasty scumbag, so he really didn't have a say in the matter.

"BJ, are you okay?" Lydia asked, pulling him from his disturbing thought processes.

"Yeah, Babe. Just excited to get there, ya know?" he assured her.

"Me too." she agreed, laying her head on his shoulder and sending a warm feeling of electricity up his spine. Against his own judgement he began to feel a certain way, and he didn't want to feel that way, but he did.

"You sure ya wanna do that?" he asked her, scowling.

"Do what?" Lydia asked, appearing confused.

"Gettin' all cuddly with me an' shit." he replied, feeling a weird mixture of infatuation, lust, love, and a heaping dose of guilt with a middle finger on top.

"I'm just tired, BJ. I didn't think you'd mind." she remarked.

"Oh, well I don't. I mean, what guy wouldn't want ya layin' all over 'em?" he raised his eyebrows. "I mean..." he stopped himself, wincing when he'd clearly went too far.

"I love you, BJ." she smiled, her glow mesmerizing him in the darkness of night.

"Oh, er, thanks. I love you too, Babe." he paused, sort of stunned like someone stuck a cattleprod to his dick. How could she even say that, given what an asshole he'd been?

Suddenly, she slid closer to him and pulled him forward, planting her soft lips against his own. Before he could stop himself, he began to kiss her wildly. She was nice and sweet and tasted like strawberries for some weird reason. She was by far the most beautiful chick he'd ever had the pleasure to so much as look at, let alone make out with. Damn she felt as nice as she looked, and he didn't want to stop himself. He began to reach behind her and grab her by the ass for some leverage, until a terrible, sinking feeling welled up inside him, forcing him to stop. This wasn't right. She hadn't even had time to decide if she wanted something better. It wasn't fair to her.

"Woah, woah..." he stopped, scooting back from her. "I can't." he panted, throwing up his hands defensively.

"Why?" she asked, looking somewhat hurt.

"It ain't you, Babe. Promise. Believe me, I wanna. Oh, _boy do I wanna_..." he explained, clearly reiterating that he did very much want to bone her in the worst possible way. "You gotta wait. Look, I know you just got better and we're goin' to Paradise an' yer all excited an' shit, but it's too soon. Believe it or not, yer kinda vulnerable right now, an' I can't take advantage of ya again. Just...wait an' see if ya really feel that way about all this later on. You may get to thinkin' about things and decide ya hate my guts again. An' believe me, ya got every right to, Babe. I'm an asshole."

He watched as she paused, seeming to be in thought. "Okay. You're right, BJ. I didn't mean to-"

"Shhh..." he shushed her, putting his finger up to her lips. "Ya ain't gotta explain a damned thing to me. Hell, that was the most action I've got in over ten years. I ain't complainin'." he grinned, before stretching and pretending to be sleepy, while simultaneously hoping his dick would shrink back down to size.

"Okay, BJ. You're right. I'll see you in the morning." she nodded, turning away from him in an attempt to go to sleep.

"Night, Babe." he replied. Damn this bein' a decent guy thing was hard.


	32. We're Here!

The Tie That Binds

Chapter 32: We're Here!

"Fuck!" Beetle jolted forward, gasping as the bus came to a screeching hault. He steadied himself, looking over his left shoulder to see Lydia rubbing her head and wincing.

"Geeze. He could have given a warning first..." she complained, as she'd apparently hit her head against the seat upon the sudden stop.

"Want me to go up there and punch him in the junk er somethin'?" Beetle asked, smirking and hiding the fact that he was actually pretty pissed about that.

"No, that won't be necessary, BJ. Thanks for the offer, though.' Lydia smiled, reaching up and grabbing her luggage from the overhead compartment as Beetle did the same.

As they left the bus, Beetle made it a point to discreetly sneer at and flip the bus driver off on the way out. What Lydia didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Whoa, BJ...Looks like we're going to be here for a while..." Lydia said, catching his attention.

When he turned around to see what Lydia was talking about, he nearly crapped his pants. "Holy shit..." he nearly gasped, seeing a line of dead people as far as the eye could reach.

* * *

After about a week of standing in line, Beetle and Lydia had finally made it to the large, shimmering pearl gate where a man with a business suit stood behind a glimmering podium, shuffling papers in front of himself. "Names, please." he said, never once looking up.

"Um, Beetle and Lydia Juice." Lydia answered, looking back to Beetle and smiling. It was nice to see her so happy, he mused. Whether she'd be happy with or without him was another subject, but he figured he'd simply let things be for the moment and worry about that shit later.

"Hmmm..." the man studied, flicking through his paperwork and stopping. "Alright." he said flatly, checking their names with a white quill pen, as he reached under the podium and pulled out a set of shiny gold keys. "You'll be housed on the East Side in hut number fourteen fifty-seven." he said, handing Lydia the keys, and giving Beetlejuice a strange, disgusted look. "Enjoy your stay in Paradise." he said, with some hesitancy, as Beetle shot him a glare.

"The nerve a' that guy..." Beetlejuice griped to himself. "You'd think he'd never seen a dead guy before..."

The large, shimmering gates began to open for them, as Lydia stepped up. "BJ...It's beautiful..." she gasped, as a beautiful, clear blue ocean spread out before them as far as the eye could see. Beatiful and lush tropical islands dotted the sparkling waters, and such a spectacular sight pulled even the likes of Beetlejuice out of a bad mood.

"Damn, Babe." he stepped up, placing an arm around her shoulder, as all of Paradise stood before them.

* * *

"HONEY, WE'RE HOME!" Beetle cackled, kicking the door open on the hut and marching in, dropping his suitcases to the floor with thud.

"Wow. It's huge in here. It looks so small on the outside..." Lydia spoke in awe, sitting her things down in a much more quiet manner.

They toured the house, complete with its extra large flat screen TV on the wall. "Hell yeah...Wonder if they got the Playboy channel here?" Beetle leered, causing Lydia to give him an annoyed look. "Kiddin', Babe!" he threw up his hands in defense, secrely happy to get a rise out of her.

"Look at this kitchen, BJ! So much space! It even has a full bar!" Lydia beamed, as Beetle stepped in, grinning devilishly.

"Bar, huh? Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout! Wouldn't really be Paradise without copious amounts of booze and shit, ya know?" he winked, nudging her with his elbow.

Lydia chuckled, before disappearing into the other rooms, viewing the rest of their new home. "There's a game room, with a pool table, BJ!" she yelled to him with excitement. "That's right up your alley!"

"Hell, yeah!" he shouted back, his eyes narrowing in on that sweet bar. He pulled out a bottle of rum and popped the cork from it, pouring it in a festive glass with a little blue umbrella in it. He began to knock it back, as he realized that Lydia had grown silent. "Hmmm..." he mused to himself. "Wonder what she's doin?"

He searched about, glancing from room to room, until he found her standing in the bedroom, staring at a giant, pink, heart-shaped bed. "It's the only one, BJ." she said, with a strangely disappointed look on her face. "I guess we're sharing again, huh?"

"Babe, you can take it." Beetle forced himself to say, though he'd very much like to share that bed with her. "There's a big ole' seashell couch in the other room. I'll take that fer now...Or forever." he shrugged, though the thought of being platonic forever seemed more like hell than Paradise. Still, he needed to give her space.

She smiled, with a trace of what Beetle could only interpret as sadness in her big, brown, glittering eyes. "Thanks, BJ. That's sweet of you." She paused briefly as an awkward silence fell between them. "Hey, you want to explore the beach with me? Looks like there's a party going on just down the shore. I'm not really the partying type, but what the hey. This is Paradise, after all."

He grinned, wanting very much to be hooked to her side forever, but something inside him opposed the idea. She did need to have her own afterlife. She didn't need his moldy ass tying her down twenty-four seven like he'd attempted to do her time and again. "Nah, Babe. I think I'll stick around here and get trashed. S'kinda mah thing." he snorted, taking another shot of rum.

Lydia smiled sadly, looking at her feet for a moment. "Okay, BJ. I'll see you later." she agreed, seeming to perk up a bit after thinking about it.

* * *

It had been no longer than a mere ten minutes after Lydia had left, that Juno showed up at his door wearing a straw hat, an oversized pair of glasses, and a long flowery dress with some flip-flops. In her hand was a martini and a cigarette between her fingers. It was funny as hell. Beetle nearly spewed his rum in the floor just from looking at her.

"So, how are you liking the place, Juice?" she stood in the doorway, taking a drag from her smoke and blowing it out with a smirk.

"What can I say? It's fuckin' perfect!" he leaned back on the couch, propping his nasty feet on the coffee table.

"I ran into your wife on the way down here." Juno said, her tone growing a bit more serious.

"Er...Yeah, about that 'wife' part..." Beetle straightened, rubbing the back of his head, uncomfortably. "I think I'm gonna leave that part up to her, for once."

Juno's expression grew surprised, as she stepped over and seated herself beside him. "I'll be damned, Juice. She really did a number on you, didn't she?"

Beetle shrugged. "Eh, it's the least I can do. All I ever did was push her. I've been a _reeeaal_ prick all these years, ya know? It's a thousand wonders she's still around me."

"I don't know what I expected of you, Juice, but I sure as hell didn't expect you to turn it all around after your last little stunt. As much as it pains me to say it, I'm proud of you." she admitted, taking a sip of her martini.

"YOU? Proud of ME?!" Beetle gasped, purposely making a spectacle of himself just to get a rise out of her. "Hell must have froze over right about now! Heh, at this rate there may be hope for me and the misses after all!"

Juno smirked, shaking her head. "There's always hope, Juice. Lydia proved that when she saved our old wrinkly asses."

"Hehe...yeah. You gotta point, Junes." he paused, before nudging her playfully. "You know yer alright, fer a wrinkly old pain in the ass."

"Likewise, Juice..." she pulled her glasses down, giving him a dirty look as she stood and made her way to the door. Juno turned a final time, "Just give her time. I believe she'll come around." She assured him, before walking out of sight.

He sloshed his rum around in its glass, before walking to the entrance and propping up against the doorway. His eyes caught a glimpse of Lydia standing in the rippling water talking to a couple of young women close to her age. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered, if that was even possible. She really was too good for him, inside and out. She was too loveable, too virtuous, too gorgeous, too honest, and far too kind. He stared longingly, feeling like a lovesick lunatic. "I sure hope yer right, Junes..."


	33. I Do

Chapter 33: I Do

Lydia inhaled the breezy, salt filled air of the ocean as she closed her eyes and allowed the sunlight to pour over her pale skin. She stood up from the water, her bikini dripping wet as she stepped onto the white crystal sands, materializing a sarong to wrap around her waist.

She glanced past the crowds of smiling, jovial people, to see Beetlejuice passed out on a lawnchair wearing a hawaiian shirt, and a big pair of sunglasses, while holding a half-empty beer in his hand. She giggled to herself, walking in his direction.

She stepped up to him, mischeviously yanking the beer from his hand and startling him awake.

"HEY! What the fuck?!" he flailed about, before ripping his glasses off and giving her a look that clearly showed he was not amused. He grunted. "What're you doin'?"

"I was just taking a dip." she smiled, taking a drink of his luke-warm beer and making a face. "You should come with me." she coaxed, trying to force him to do something other than drink and pass out, which did seem to be his specialty as of late.

"Eh, I told ya, Babe. The B-man don't swim. Ain't mah thing." he grumbled, stretching and scratching his beer gut.

"Then what _is_ your thing, besides getting trashed and sleeping? You've been doing the same thing for months now. It's weird." she said, folding her arms over her chest.

"You'd be getting trashed too if you had to look at those gushy fuckers everyday." he muttered, pointing to a table with an umbrella in the middle of it, where Eugene and his wife Candy sat, feeding each other grapes while being sickeningly affectionate.

"Well I didn't mean to clear their records, BJ! I guess their info was attached to mine." she shrugged, knowing he wasn't really pissed off over that. He was just being his grouchy self and avoiding her again. So once again, like she had done everyday, she tried to get him to do something with her. "Why don't you go out with me tonight?"

"You got yer little friends fer that." he sneered, juicing another beer in his hands and taking a drink.

"Oh, C'mon, BJ! You're missing out! You used to love to go out!" she tried coercing him once more.

"I used to do a lot of shit. I used to bang hookers too, but ya don't see me porkin' one, do ya?" he retorted.

"Okay, okay...Grumpy..." she snorted, partly amused by his constant need to be a grouchy asshole, and partly a little unsettled by this long-term change in his behavior. He was himself, but then again, he wasn't. It's like he was constantly holding back, just as she used to. "I'll see you later." she smiled sadly, feeling a bit defeated, as she patted his shoulder affectionately.

"Yeah, yeah..." he grumbled, taking another drink of his beer and putting his glasses on once more.

* * *

Lydia sighed, walking past Beetle's empty lawnchair, which was now surrounded by about fifty empty beer bottles. She glanced at their small hut, noting that he was out on the roof by himself, overlooking the view of the ocean and smoking a cigar as he leaned against the balcony.

"Figures." she rolled her eyes, making her way through the house to get to the staircase and ultimately go up and harass him for a while. On her way, she paused, turning and gazing into the master bedroom. The bed was big, heart-shaped, and gawdy, and the room was a wild color combo of neon pink and red. It had Beetlejuice written all over it. She smirked to herself, before continuing on her mission to go hang out with the poltergeist against his will.

* * *

"What are you doing up here all by yourself, BJ?" Lydia teased, approaching him and smelling cigar smoke and alcohol in the air.

"Eh, the usual." he shrugged, staring off into the distance, as the moonlight danced over the ocean. Much to Lydia's dismay, he appeared to be a bit down in the dumps, in _Paradise_ , of all places.

Though her original plan was to simply aggravate him for her own amusement, she felt a bit too sympathetic toward him to do such a thing. Instead, she let her curiousity take over, and decided to interrogate him over his continuously strange behavior for the ten-thousandth time. "BJ...?"

"What?" he grunted, pulling the cigar from his lips and blowing smoke rings.

"If I asked you what's wrong, would you tell me for once and _not_ ignore me this time?" she asked, knowing they'd danced around this same conversation multiple times already.

He shrugged. "Depends. Whaddaya wanna know?"

Though she felt very uncomfortable, she forced herself to ask the question. "Do you want away from me, BJ?"

"Pssshh! No! What the fuck gave ya that idea?" he scoffed, blowing smoke everywhere.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the constant refusal to go anywhere with me, not wanting to talk to me, the sneaking away from me like you are doing right now?" she replied, sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips.

"Ugh. I already told ya, I was givin' you yer space, Babe! Besides, ain't ya got that young pretty boy to run around with now? Figured he'd keep ya plenty of company." he raised an eyebrow, clearly suggesting something concerning one of her newfound comrades.

"Who? Do you mean Kevin?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure he's yer type, or whatever." he muttered as he looked away from her, flicking his ashes off of the balcony.

"BJ, he's gay." she stated flatly, rolling her eyes.

"Gay?" Beetle wrinkled up his face, looking baffled.

"Didn't the black stilettos give it away?" she huffed. "And the _boyfriend_?"

"I dunno. I thought it was somethin' all those young punks were doin' nowadays." he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Besides, you shouldn't be hangin' out with my old nasty ass all the time, anyway..." he trailed off miserably.

"And why not?!" she spat, folding her arms across her chest in irritation.

"Huh?" he turned to her, appearing a bit surprised. "You don't mean that, Babe. We've been over this a thousand fuckin' times. I ain't no good for ya."

Lydia sighed, realizing what this was all about. "Are you still feeling bad over all that Neitherworld stuff?"

"What do you think, Lydia?!" he growled. "I ain't been a good guy to you, Babe. I can't just drop it. I did a lot of bad shit. I coulda got you killed...again!"

"The same could be said for me, BJ. You were almost exorcised because I didn't believe you." she reminded him, hoping she could somehow get him to move past all of the bad. Sure, he'd been an ass many times over, and of course things were completely messed up before, but she ultimately knew the reasons why, and however crazy that was, she found it remarkably easy to forgive him. Even more so, she'd forgiven herself for her own shortcomings, and that made _everything_ easier. The truth was, whether Beetle wanted to admit it to himself or not, he was a good guy, and Lydia knew that. He was someone worth being with, and he made her happy. As a matter of fact, she couldn't imagine her afterlife without him. She didn't want to.

"Yeah, but I was gonna throw you in prison fer a thousand years, Babe!" he spat, appearing to get riled up, and defending his stance on the matter.

"Because I told on us!" Lydia said, one-upping him again. She wasn't going to let him win this.

"Yeah, because I tried to make you do the whole wifey thing against yer will!" he fumed, becoming exasperated.

"I _did_ put on the ring..." she continued, still not backing down.

"Yeah but I held ya hostage!" he argued, flailing about and painting the air with cigar smoke.

"Well I came back in the first place..." she raised a brow. Was he really going to keep denying the inevitable?

"You wouldn't have come back if I hadn't tried to force yer ass into marriage in the first place!" he bellowed. "God, Lydia, yer fuckin' impossible! You mean to tell me that after all that fucked up shit, and all this time, yer just dyin' to be with my miserable ass? Ya really want all that?!"

Lydia smiled sheepishly. " _I do_."

"Wai-what? You can't be fuckin' serious! There's no way..." he rubbed his head, seeming to be astonished. "How?"

Lydia looked up into his wild, green eyes. "Because you're not such a bad guy, BJ. I always knew you had a lot of good inside of you, and I was right. The only reason we struggled so much was because we both fought it. Well, I'm tired of fighting it. I'm happy with you, BJ. I don't care how insane that is. I won't be satisfied until we're together, and I don't think you'll be, either...If that makes me crazy, then so be it. I'm insane. I've already accepted that we're made for each other, whether you have or not." she finally admitted, feeling that it was her turn to pour her heart out for once. "I did what you said. I gave it time, and my mind isn't going to change. I still want to be with you."

Finally, he let down his guard, and finally, Lydia felt like that terrible, cold wall that had always been between them in some way or another was starting to crumble down.

"You sure about all that?" he asked in earnest, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"More sure than I've ever been." she smiled up at him, placing her hand on his chest affectionately. "So whaddaya say, Mr. Juice? You want to be my husband? For real this time?"

"Hehe..." he shook his head in near disbelief. "Fuck, Babe. You know I sure as shit ain't gonna say no."

She pulled him down and kissed him, feeling that strange electricity flow through her and crackle in the starry night air around them. "You know I love you, BJ..."

"Likewise, Lydia Juice. And then some, Babe." he pulled her in tightly, before awkwardly clearing his throat and giving her a strange look.

"What is it?" her brow furrowed, as she tried to decipher what was going through that moldy head of his.

"Eh-herm...Well, since we're now officially, OFFICIALLY hitched, I just figured...What with the romantic tropical shit an' all..." his eyes narrowed, as a devilish grin formed on his features. "Maybe yous' and I could finally get to consummatin' that little union of ours..." he drawled in her ear, seeming completely like his old self again.

Lydia formed a sly grin of her own. "Well, Mr. Juice. We _are_ married, after all..." she smiled, looking up at him and feeling strangely a bit devilish herself.

"Ohhhh, Babe..." he leered straighteneing his collar before scooping her up bridal style in his arms and kissing her with everything he had. He grinned wildly at her, with a cunning, feral gleam in his eyes.

"IT'S SHOWTIME!"

 _~~~The End~~~_

* * *

 **Hello everyone!** _A huge thanks to everyone who's made it to the end. I really hope you liked this. If not, I'm sorry and I'm grateful you came this far anyway. I wanted to throw in some angst and tear them apart, before bringing them together, due to the fact that I'm sure being married to the most infamous ghost in the Neitherworld would have some huge repercussions involved. Ultimately, I wanted them to really, truly grow to love each other, warts and all. Also, I just posted the rest of the story since I had some free time and wasn't sure if I'd have much in the future. My fic was finished anyway, so why not? Again, thanks to all who have taken time out of your days to read my stories. I'd love to know what you think!_

 _Best wishes and take care!_

 _See ya later ;)_


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